


410 A.D.

by CrazyCollectionDuck (MagicallyDelirious)



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment, ambreigns - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ambrose is a healer, Anal Sex, Ancient Rome, Druids, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of working in a brothel, Oral Sex, Roman is a Gladiator, Violence, War, barbarians - Freeform, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5146754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicallyDelirious/pseuds/CrazyCollectionDuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sack of Rome in 410 A.D. ushered in The Dark Ages. Roman as he's called by the Barbarians who broke his shackles finds himself fighting alongside them, and one man in particular: Ambrose. His life has never been his own, and now he's had a taste of freedom he wants more, but when the time comes will he be able to leave the infuriating man behind? (Ambreigns AU) (Rolton)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Raven-Haired Man

The tall raven haired man sat quietly on the edge of camp sharpening his blade and blending in with the shadows. A sharp blade in the world he'd been born into often meant the difference between life and death, and while he had been traveling with this band of Barbarians for some time now, he didn't trust them.

In this world you could trust no one, but yourself. In this world no one had your back, and the raven haired man was all too painfully aware of that.

While he'd always told himself it was the world he'd been born into and it was simply life, the truth was he wasn't exactly sure what kind of world he'd really been born into. He had spent the majority of his life as a slave in a foreign land.

He knew he had been born far from where fate saw him now. Someone had once told him the intricate tattoo he'd had since as far back as he could remember, which stretched across his chest and continued down his right arm meant he was from a land called Samoa. He didn't remember Samoa or his parents, or if he ever really had parents, or any family.

He assumed he didn't, because it was easier than believing he did and they had let him be taken away or sold him to pay a debt, though he'd seen that happen time and time again with his own eyes. He had been a house slave until he was 14 and a Praetor of Rome had purchased him to be trained as a gladiator.

Ten long years he lived, ate, slept, and breathed by the sands of the arena. His life had been nothing but sweat and blood all for the enjoyment of the citizens of Rome, and they had the nerve to call the men he was with now Barbarians. When as a mere child he was raised under the whip and constant threat of pain and death.

That was till the day his chains had been broken and he was offered a choice, not much of a choice, but a choice none the less; to be executed along with his Dominus as a Roman, or to fight and possibly die alongside the Visigoths as a free man.

He had hesitated but a moment when given the choice, and it had made some of his new comrades question him when he'd chosen to join their ranks in the end. His hesitation hadn't come from fear of death or loyalty to Rome; it had come from somewhere inside of him that was afraid of that freedom.

He had chosen to live and fight another day, though he had grown weary of fighting; still the damage had been done. While he had proven himself a skilled warrior in battle there were still those who questioned his resolve and or his loyalty, so he kept to himself, and bid his time till he would be free of them as well.

Most of his life had been spent focused on survival with no time for what could have been, but now that he had been freed from actual shackles the errant thought to seek the mysterious land of Samoa popped up more often than he cared to admit.

In the darkest hours before the dawn he wondered where it was and attempted to calculate his chances of making it there before the gods took pity on him and ended his suffering once and for all. As a child or even an adult he never dared dream of such things, but this small taste of freedom had given him such dreams. He had spent most of his life convincing himself he had no family, but now he imagined he knew what they looked like and sounded like, though he'd never heard their tongue.

He imagined his mother had a beautiful voice and soft gentle hands, and his father as a proud hard man who possessed wisdoms he wanted to pass on to his beloved son. He pictured brothers and sisters he could have shared late night secrets with, laughter, and even pain, but those were dangerous thoughts, because although he no longer wore chains he was still a slave.

The raven haired man's life belonged to the chieftain; it was not his own. The possibility existed that one day it may truly be his own, but that was not this day, so he would bide his time until it was so.

"You have some skill with a blade, Roman, I'll give you that."

He needn't look up, nor was he startled by the presence of the man who spoke, because his presence was always accompanied by some sort of aura that made his hair stand on end: Ambrose.

Ambrose was a strange man, a hard man, and the most vocal concerning his lack of faith in his final decision. He had taken to calling him Roman so as to remind the others of his hesitation or so he assumed.

It made no difference to him; he couldn't recall his given name. As a boy he had been called Aer, which in Latin meant light blue, due to his shocking eye color in contrast to his pigmentation, and later they had chosen Coracinus, which in Latin meant raven black, due to his Dominus's belief it was much more befitting of a Gladiator.

Roman was as acceptable to him as anything, though he preferred he called him nothing and left him be.

He was certain Ambrose hadn't been freed and given the same unnegotiable option as he had, because the man seemed to be unable to fathom his hesitation, it was something Roman felt couldn't be understood absent the experience.

While it seemed Ambrose had made it his personal mission to seek him whenever there was a lull and disturb him, judging by the way he always seemed to be near and constantly testing his patience, Roman had to admit he was a skilled warrior, though quite unconventional at times. There was something about him that seemed to draw Roman's eye, even in the heat of battle, which he found very disconcerting.

It was something he found so disconcerting, that while he rarely spoke to anyone he took extra care to avoid Ambrose especially, yet somehow the other man always found a way to ensnare him as he was now, making it very difficult to ignore him without causing disruption.

He could feel the other man's eyes boring into him, and it caused goose bumps to break out over his skin, though the last snow fall had been months past. Roman concentrated on continuing to rhythmically run his whet stone along his blade in the hope his lack of response would make the other man give up, though it rarely did.

"Are you deaf as well as craven?" Ambrose challenged unused to and unhappy with being ignored.

Roman did his best to rein in his irritation with the other man, and looked over at him, which he was loathed to do.

Ambrose was as tall as he was, with messy reddish blonde hair he wore shorter than was customary, blue eyes, Roman often felt could see into his soul, which was just another reason he avoided the man, and small divots in his cheeks that only appeared when he smiled, which Roman had come to know was on very rare occasion.

His eyes met other man's, and his heart seemed to stutter for a moment making him glad he had chosen to hide in the shadows as he felt his face flush. The fire light was barely illuminating either of them, but it only served to make Roman's heart beat a little faster as Ambrose seemingly glowed, though he had noticed the other man often glowed absent the trick of faint fire light.

Beautiful; was the first word that came to mind, and it stunned him into forgetting what he had planned to say to make him go away. Ambrose seemed to read his expression, and while Roman prayed he hadn't actually spoken aloud the other man's features softened for the briefest moment, before morphing into something he couldn't describe as he lunged at him.

Roman's instincts kicked in and he wrapped his arms and legs around Ambrose, seeing as he had dropped the sword he had been making certain was properly maintained for such occurrences in his surprise. Maybe it wasn't just in surprise, because even as he tried to pin the other man down he felt himself trying to be careful as not to actually hurt him.

Ambrose on the other hand didn't seem to care if he injured Roman what so ever, as in a surprising and impressive display of strength he bucked his hips and used his legs to propel Roman off of him causing Roman to smack his head on a nearby rock. Just as Roman dizzily scrambled to his feet he realized Ambrose hadn't been attacking him, he had been protecting him.

Shouting and the clang of metal on metal rang throughout the camp as Raider's from a nearby settlement sought to do as much damage as possible while restocking supplies by capturing theirs. Roman froze for a split second in shock at his realization, which almost cost him dearly. Ambrose barked out a warning just in time for Roman to dodge what would have surely been a fatal blow before driving is blade through his attacker.

In his distraction Ambrose had neglected to see his own danger, and without a second thought Roman knocked Ambrose out of the way just as the Raider's stroke fell. Unfortunately that meant Roman had taken his place, and while he was used to the sting of a blade he let out a pained cry as it lacerated the flesh of his left shoulder.

Ambrose scrambled to his feet looking if possible even more livid that Roman had ever seen him driving his own blade into the gut of their enemy before Roman could even fully raise his own. They looked at each other for a moment, and while Roman was sure his face registered nothing but shock, Ambrose's face was contorted in fury.

Roman had no time to contemplate the man's bizarre behavior as two more Raiders attempted to dispatch them. Ambrose and Roman positioned themselves back to back so as not to be caught unawares. He reached behind him with his non sword hand and gripped Ambrose's thigh so as to be sure to keep him near.

The fighting was fierce but only lasted a short while longer as the Raiders accepted defeat and hastily retreated, and while the skirmish would be counted among their victories, Roman could see several of his fellow soldiers lay dead or dying.

The Chief called for a casualty count, and while Roman disliked seeing life snuffed out based solely on principal, which was in direct contrast with the way he'd been forced to live, he was relieved that Ambrose remained mostly unscathed with the exception of a gash above his right eye brow. Ambrose, however, was still quite angry and was soon causing Roman to call his relief into question.

While Roman wished to respond to his anger in kind he settled for narrowing his eyes as the infuriating man continued to berate him as he bound Roman's wounded shoulder. He wanted to snap at him, but Ambrose had risked his life to save his own, so he simply grit his teeth against the pain and irritation.

"Keep it clean, Roman," Ambrose snapped when he was finished and abruptly stood to walk away.

Roman was unsure what to say or do, but felt he should thank him in some way. Without thinking he reached out and grabbed the other man's wrist and did his best to ignore the spark that accompanied the touch.

"Your head needs tending to," Roman said though it was rather obvious, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

"No thanks to you," Ambrose snapped back, though his voice lacked some, but not all of its previous venom. "Next time fucking pay attention so my head won't need tending."

Roman felt his heart sink in shame. Though he couldn't fathom motivation the man who seemed to spend most of his time belittling him had done something Roman never expected, something he could only ever remember one other person doing for him his entire existence; he had protected him.

Ambrose must've seen his heart sink, and his face softened a bit like it had before the raid.

"I suppose you wouldn't mind tending to it, seeing as how I saved your miserable life," Ambrose kept his voice hard, and accusatory, but his eyes showed none of that so it kept the sting Roman had felt before from returning.

A man of few words by nature Roman only nodded in agreement, before Ambrose switched places with him. He tried to be gentle, and while it was only at Ambrose's insistence he make sure the wound was free of all dirt and debris before he bound it, it didn't stop him from snapping at him. Roman did his best to ignore that and his inexplicable goose bumps along with the fact that his touch seemed to make the other man tense considerably.

He was relieved and disappointed at the same time when he'd finished. The way Ambrose remained seated along with the way he was staring at him made him feel they were of a similar mind. That was until Orton, who rarely left Ambrose's side appeared.

"Ambrose," it was one word, but full of relief and concern, which caused Roman's chest to tighten uncomfortably.

Roman was unsure whether it was due to his desire to have someone speak his name laced as such when finding him no worse for wear after even such a small skirmish, or because he knew it meant Ambrose was going to leave and he would once again be sitting in the alone in the shadows.

"Just a scratch," Ambrose assured with a gentleness Roman never knew the man possessed nor had Roman ever experienced.

"Getting slower old crone?" Orton raised an eyebrow which told Roman most of his worry had been quelled.

"Distracted," Ambrose's features hardened once again as he turned to glare at Roman. "The Roman froze just as he was about to be run through. We're fortunate we only suffered insignificant injuries, though that might change without proper care."

Orton who hadn't seem to realize Roman was there until Ambrose spoke to him narrowed his eyes as he met his gaze. Roman suddenly felt angry, and while he had been grateful for what the other man had done, he now resented it. Why would he go through with the hassle if he was only going to resent it as well?

"By all means, next time don't interfere," Roman snapped scooping up his sword and tucking it away. "You would never have been distracted nor would I, had you not come to pester me. I suggest you leave me be, before I run you through."

Roman didn't bother to wait for a reply, and while he considered himself a patient man, he had none left when it came to Ambrose or Orton for that matter. As he stalked around the out skirts of the camp to find a different shadow to hide in Roman promised himself he would break free someday soon without looking back, but until then he would avoid both Ambrose and Orton as though they were lepers.


	2. Left Behind

Once again Roman was alone on the edge of camp blending in with the shadows, but this time he could do nothing more than shiver. He wrapped his arms around himself as best he could in attempts to find the warmth his blanket failed to provide. As he continued to shiver he gave a dry mirthless laugh though it was quite painful to do so.

If the citizens of Rome could see him now, The Great Coracinus, slayer of beast and man finally meets his end, but not on sands of the arena with what little honor men such as he were afforded, no; he is brought down by what could be considered by many no more than a nick, and a fever.

He needn't to be a medicus such as Ambrose, to know his end was near.

Roman spent many years surrounded by death; dispensing more than his fair share, so much more than he ever wanted, waiting for his time, praying for mercy, and finally his prayers are answered, but only after a small taste of freedom, which alas was never meant to be his.

Perhaps the gods are just, and this is payment for all the blood that stains his hands, he thought as he finally let his eyes slide closed, unable to keep them open any longer trying to conjure the glowing figure that haunted his fever dreams.

The remainder of the night and well after dawn following the raid was occupied with salvaging what they could, and burying not only their dead, but the dead the Raider's had left behind. Roman had been tasked with digging said graves, which numbered too many for either side, and while the element of surprise seemed to afford the Raiders at least that victory, Roman thought it was no victory at all.

The clan in which Roman traveled was the exception rather than rule, in the regard they numbered over 80, while most clans were much smaller, such as the one that assaulted their camp. Inferior numbers had been the deciding factor in their retreat, but Roman knew they must have been desperate to even take such a risk for what was sure to be so little reward.

The term Visigoth hardly referred to one nation as Roman previously understood it, it simply referred to separate branches of nomadic tribes of Germanic people as a whole, commonly collectively known as simply Goths. While they had a king in Alaric I, most still operated very much separate in their own small clans banding together when there was need, such as now, though not very well, proof being the raid.

Armies had been raised by the clan chiefs and alliances formed, much like the one which "freed" Roman, but as they waited for word, clan law ruled.

King Alaric I sought to barter with Emperor Honorius outside the Roman capitol of Ravenna, as was such since 402, for land and grain for his people after two long years of war, and many more of small skirmished, and uneasy peace.

Roman was never one to neither speak out nor offer opinion, even when asked, but he had found himself speaking out on opposition to retaliation. His voice was only one of very few, which quickly became one of two. A Saxon, Cena, who had been "freed" along with Roman, though they'd never spoken prior, stood by his side as everyone else stepped away, and it only served to solidify his resolve though victory was futile.

Once the order had been given, Roman fully intended to do what was promised when he had chosen to live to fight another day, but Ambrose had words with the Chief, and Roman was suddenly to be left behind. Though he wasn't wholly sure what had been mentioned, he was sure Ambrose, who had been his most vocal opposition in favor of retaliation, called into question his honor, if not his skill.

They parted on the eve of six days past, and while Roman had no desire to war or raid he was loath to be left behind on grounds most likely stated as cowardice.

Six eternal days ago Roman felt a fury like none he remembered. Ambrose sent Orton of all people to inform him he was to be left behind to care for the wounded, and while Roman was often considered unnaturally quiet, which most attributed to stupidity he stormed through camp shouting for Ambrose with Orton on his tail, who he soon lost.

When he found Ambrose he was off a little ways in the woods presumably collecting plants and digging up roots.

"Just because I have not your desire to take what I cannot give back, does not make me weak," Roman had growled at Ambrose as he approached.

The other man neither turned around nor acknowledged him for a long moment as he dug in the dirt stuffing bulbs of some sort in a small burlap sack. It infuriated him beyond what he thought was possible. The man was always pestering and disturbing him when he was clearly unwelcome, but when Roman sought him, he hadn't the decency to even look at him.

"I desire balance," Ambrose replied quietly, though still without turning. "It is natural order."

Roman wanted to respond, but the strange response and uncharacteristic tranquility along with the sudden appearance of Orton who looked beyond relieved as he sprinted towards them stopped him. Ambrose finally turned as the other man approached; however, Orton was forgotten as Ambrose's eyes settled on Roman, and he glared.

"You're binding is filthy; Roman," Ambrose snapped with an impressive amount of venom, as he made his way towards him. "Did you not comprehend the meaning of keep it clean?"

Roman didn't respond he simply glared back. This man was impossibly infuriating. First he ignores him, then when he does speak it's none-sense, and now scolded him for a dirty binding that was only so, because he had to bury the dead as well as dig the graves due to Ambrose's insistence he stay back, while the others rested before their journey.

Roman jerked away from Ambrose as he reached out presumably to remove the binding making contact with his skin.

"It needs changing," Ambrose snapped at him again, but Roman only stepped back farther as to avoid the strange spark that always accompanied his touch.

"Do not touch me," Roman growled slightly panicked as Ambrose reached out again.

"Do not be dense," Ambrose snapped back.

"Ambrose! Orton!" Kane, the chief's second in command, called out. "Make haste!"

Orton acknowledged the shout as Roman and Ambrose continued to stare at each other. Roman refused to budge and he could see Ambrose was just as resolute, though did not reach out again. Ambrose's resolve dissipated as Orton tugged on him as Kane shouted again.

"Consume one whole bulb each day until we return," Ambrose instructed none too kindly slamming the small burlap sack into Roman's chest causing his confusion and anger to swell. "Be sure to clean and dry the wound before you rebind it, there is plenty of that in there as well."

With that Ambrose abruptly turned and walked away leaving Roman standing at the edge of the wood to simply stare after him.

"Keep it clean; Roman," Ambrose shot over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.

Roman's confusion completely gave way to his anger after a moment, and while he wasn't wholly sure of the cause he threw the small sack down on the ground, and stormed deeper into the woods, so as to keep himself from going after Ambrose.

He spent hours wondering the woods around their camp trying not to think about the enraging man, while simultaneously planning all the things he would say to him when he returned. Roman wasn't sure what he was playing at, but he was sure he didn't like it. Ambrose was awful to him from the moment he gave him the choice, which wasn't much of a choice, with his sword already poised to strike, and now had the sudden urge to care for his wounds?

Six long days, Roman wondered around camp doing what was required of him and more, so as to keep busy. He wasn't even certain when the fever began to set in, but it was here now.

Everything was a bit unclear as he lay there shivering, those six everlasting days melted together, and an unbidden tear slid down his cheek certain that he wouldn't wake to see them return. Roman felt exhausted as he finally drifted sadly, still hoping to dream of his glowing figure one last time.

 

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"Roman!" none too gentle hands shook him.

He managed to open his eyes just barely, but when he saw it was Orton he let them close again. Roman tried to roll away from him, so as to give him the hint to he wished to be left alone, but he hardly managed even a pained moan.

"Oh gods, Roman, you must open your eyes," Orton demanded.

Roman didn't want to, he was so cold and so tired, but the pleading in the Orton's voice compelled him.

"Oh thank gods," Roman could almost feel the relief radiating from the other man, but he was still so tired. "Roman, you have to stay awake," Orton commanded, but Roman felt his eyes closing on their own accord as the other man left again.

Roman felt as though he was hovering somewhere between sleep and wake or hallucination as he began his strangest fever dream yet.

"He's burning up," Orton's voice sounded worried, and while Roman knew he was in fact burning from the inside out, it meant he couldn't have been talking about him.

Roman vaguely wondered who else was burning, and silently hoped it wasn't Ambrose, though he did glow, so that would make sense. Roman's eyes slid open as he felt someone pull him upright a little, and couldn't help the smile that graced his face when he saw Ambrose; he was glowing.

"Beautiful," Roman mumbled to himself.

While Roman often had fairly vivid dreams, none of them were as pleasant as this. Though he continued to shiver and while he didn't fancy that part too much, this was his favorite yet.

His glowing figure did not speak for a long while, only carefully removed his binding, and though it was somewhat painful as his wound was tended Roman felt almost none of it concentrating on the way the other man cradled him in his arms tenderly as he worked. It was as though it was real.

"Goddamnit, Roman, do you ever listen," Ambrose muttered irritably after applying a pungent salve to the inflamed nick as Roman gasped when his new binding was pulled tight. "Get me my satchel, and then fetch water."

Ambrose's voice was angry and panicked, which caused Roman to frown along with the appearance of Orton with a small sack much like the one the real Ambrose had given him before leaving him behind.

"You are lucky you still draw breath," Ambrose snapped at his frown, but pulled him closer none the less.

Ambrose, with impossible gentleness bid Roman to open his mouth. The wild garlic he place on his tongue was strong and biting, and Roman gagged, but his mouth was held shut as Ambrose ordered him to chew and swallow. It tasted awful.

"You were much more pleasant in my other dreams," Roman muttered as he burrowed into the warmth despite his own annoyance.

It was a strange dream, such a vivid dream, and while the glowing figure of his other dreams never spoke, which Roman surmised was the cause of his pleasantness, in this dream his glowing figure pressed his lips to Roman's head holding him close with gentleness that made it worth dealing with the unpleasantness and even the awful tasting garlic.

As his beautiful glowing figure rocked him gently seemingly muttering prayers Roman thought that while he was only afforded a small taste of freedom before his end; the gods were indeed just, because though it was only a strange fever dream, he'd also been afforded a small taste of what he assumed it was like to be loved.


	3. Medicus

Roman remained in his beloved shadows for what could have been days as he slipped in and out of consciousness unawares. When he was finally able to keep his eye open for more than mere moments, it was night just as when he experienced his strange fever dream, and he found he was no longer alone.

"Drink," Cena pushed a small wooden bowl into his hand after he carefully pulled him upright forcing Roman to grind his teeth against his pained shoulder.

Slightly taken off guard by the familiarity in which Cena touched him, and his sudden disappointment at not finding his glowing figure beside him Roman could only nod in thanks.

While the water was cool and refreshing it hurt to swallow and did little to wash away the residual bitterness the fever left in his mouth. Cena watch him carefully as he attempted to take only small sips, but his attentiveness made Roman nervous causing him to take a big gulp in hopes when he finished the other man would leave him be.

"Easy," Cena admonished as Roman began to choke.

Cena took the small bowl and at noticing the considerable heat still radiating off him pushed something else into his palm. When Roman opened his hand some of his shock and distress must've shown on his face as he stared down at the pealed bulb of wild garlic. His fever dream was not just that; only Ambrose.

"Smells awful, I know," Cena said sympathetically.

Roman's nose wrinkled at the pungent odor remembering just how awful it tasted as well, but his eyes stung for a very different reason. Cena cupped his hands under Roman's and pushed them towards his mouth encouragingly.

"You must eat it," Cena insisted looking sincerely compassionate. "Ambrose says it will help with the fever and inflammation."

The sincerity in the Saxons voice did little to keep Roman from starting at his words.

"Ambrose?" Roman found his voice was weak as well as scratchy, but the tension could not be mistaken as he felt a pang in his chest as well as blush at the mention of the other man's name. "Then it will probably only serve to hasten my end."

"It has proven true thus far," Cena caught his hand looking slightly baffled as Roman went to fling away the reminder of his ridiculous hallucination.

Roman glared at him in surprise and suspicion, because while Cena stood with him, Ambrose did not feel the need to humiliate him by having him left behind on grounds of cowardice.

"You would trust the Goth?" Roman asked though it felt absurd.

While they had never spoken before the day Roman was unceremoniously left behind, they had lived at the same Ludus for ten long years and Roman had come to know Cena was an honorable man. To this day Cena had kept Roman's previous moniker to himself, discerning it was Roman's wish when he did the same. The Goths would not know him by sight, but his name would surely be known; accompanied with his hesitation may have proven reason for his immediate execution.

Roman suspected it was more out of need of an ally, than much else. When they were "freed" their Dominus had been visiting an acquaintance in the countryside and brought them along seeking to show off his prized possessions. The other slaves were slain fighting having not the skill to survive, while for Roman and Cena it was an integral part of their life.

Moreover, Roman being left behind was not Cena's doing; as usual it traveled full circle back to Ambrose.

"As much as I would a Roman," Cena chuckled giving him a conspiratorial look. "Ambrose, however, is a Celt."

"A Celt?" Roman couldn't hide his surprise.

"Aye; a Druid by his looks," Cena confided.

Roman had heard many tales of Druids in the house of his first master. They were mysterious, but supposedly powerful beings. The tales mentioned everything from magic, nature worship, to human sacrifice. Their true ways had been lost when they were conquered by Rome and their exact nature obscured by the sands of time and false tales.

His masters son, however, could not be swayed into believe such things, and saw them only as "magical beings of light". The boy, who was his constant companion, and very much a brat, often begged his father to take them there. He wanted so badly to see their magic, and while he often had his head in the clouds Roman too wished to go, though not wholly convinced of their magic.

"Is that why he glows?" Roman asked distractedly shaking his head to rid himself of painful memories better left untouched, and was unaware he put the garlic in his mouth until he bit down.

"Don't spit it out." Cena admonished as he clamped his mouth shut just as he had done last time forcing him to swallow, but Roman noticed his hands felt not quite right.

They were callused and worn; not soft nor gentle. He tried to shake the ludicrous notion that it was because they were the wrong hands.

"As bad as it smells?" Cena wrinkled his nose then chuckled as Roman snatch the bowl of water and drained the rest too fast causing him to choke again.

Cena pounded his back, causing pain in his shoulder trying not to laugh as Roman coughed making his head throb as well. Eventually it subsided and suddenly Roman was once again tired and very much wanted to sleep, which brought his fever dream unbidden to the forefront of his mind, but also his curiosity.

"A Druid you say?" Roman asked once he was sure his voice was steady, though still weak and scratchy.

"I know nothing about glowing, mind you," Cena smiled at him before looking thoughtful. "But, aye, I'm sure of it."

"Druids are extinct," Roman pointed out remembering the lessons he was forced to sit through with his companion.

To Roman's surprise Cena chuckled looking at him as though he was naïve, which made Roman bristle a bit.

"Relax, Roman," Cena patted his back roughly, but affectionately causing Roman to jerk away, and Cena to frown, "apologies."

While Roman had no real preference for what he was called, Cena's affections though coarse were somewhat overwhelming. It reminded him of his fever dream and its gentle tenderness causing him to call his recent conclusion into question; but Ambrose could not have been real.

"You mistake my meaning, friend," Cena said sounding truly sorry. "My meaning was it's always the victors who write the tale, truth be damned. You, though born in a foreign land have only ever known the Roman way, and farther as a slave your knowledge was limited. It has been many years since I've seen the green isle, which I once called home, but I can tell you Druids are not extinct."

"You are a Celt?" Roman's confusion was only deepening.

Roman remembered the horrid day he was bought to begin his apprenticeship of blood. Cena had yet to take a name and was simply referred to as Saxon.

"That is a Roman way of thinking," Cena pushed his good shoulder playfully. "They call us Barbarians, as though we have no way of life, but in truth we have many ways of life."

Roman thought about it for a moment, and while he felt his ailment was making him slow he thought he grasped his meaning.

"Different clans, not one nation," Roman replied getting a smile from Cena and another pat. "So Ambrose is a Druid?"

Cena nodded somewhat gravely, which made Roman's heart flutter. Were the tales of their savagery accurate or were they truly powerful beings and his nod meant they should be treated as such?

Roman felt a pang of longing for his old companion who would have been bouncing with excitement at the confirmation of not only their existence, but at the chance to question one.

"Roman!" Orton's voice called out.

Roman tensed as Orton drew near unsure of his intent, but also at the reminder of his fever dream and the fact it was true only in part. Orton seemed not to notice; instead he continued towards them purposefully and reached out his hand.

Roman jerked back instinctively unused to people touching him so often, or at all without intent to harm causing Orton to frown at him, but not to drop the offending hand.

"He's not fond of being touched," Cena told Orton.

As general rule that was very much true, but Roman had no idea how Cena would know that with their limited contact, or perhaps it was due to it. If he did know, why had he been touching him so freely? Roman instantly recalled snuggling into his glowing figure seeking warmth as he was rocked to sleep.

"Apologies," Orton, who still had yet to drop his hand looked slightly confused.

Roman tensed farther, though more so in annoyance as Orton cautiously lowered his hand towards Roman like one would when approaching an injured animal causing Cena to chuckle, and Roman to scowl.

"I come in peace," Orton said at his scowl before touching his face, "still burning."

His voice was laced with worry just as he recalled from his fever dream. Was Orton true too? If he was, what did that mean for his glowing figure?

"Fortunately, I also come bearing gifts," Orton reached out again, but this time only to push something into his hand before he dug in a familiar burlap sack.

Roman nose crinkled at the thought of more garlic making Orton chuckle as he looked back up and Roman feel the need to scowl once again.

"It is ginger, not garlic," Orton assured confusing Roman all the more.

Was Orton his glowing figure, or was he simply at Ambrose's side as per usual when Cena obtained the awful garlic?

Roman narrowed his eyes at the ginger then Orton who simply looked at him expectantly. He hesitated a moment, but concluded that since the garlic did not end him, surely ginger would be no worse and should at least taste better; he was wrong.

"Do not spit it out," the two men admonished together, but this time it was Orton's hands which forced him to swallow, as Cena simply laughed.

Roman's heart sank making it difficult to swallow. Orton's hands were soft and gentle, and though they lacked certain tenderness it was more near to the touches he found himself craving.

"Apologies, it's awful I know," Orton looked sincere or perhaps it was his fever, and while Roman wanted to ask him, he was afraid of his answer, so he settled on another scowl directed at both.

"Apologies," Cena smiled at him. "I have seen you hardly flinch under the crack of the whip, but place something bitter on your tongue…"

"Let me have a proper look," Orton said gently giving Cena a disapproving look as he trailed off overcome by his laughter.

Roman allowed it, and concentrated on Orton's touch as he carefully removed the binding. While his touch was much closer, Roman continued to hold out hope, though he was not certain why. Someday soon he would be free of them all and their riddles without so much as a glance back.

Still, it didn't stop Roman from noticing his hands were clumsy and he muttered apologies at every wince. His glowing figure worked with sure hands and while his touch was tender his words were not. Could it be true?

When Orton had finished Roman's head was as tired as his body, and he greatly desired sleep, which the other men noticed. As much as he wanted to sleep Orton's tending had caused his shoulder to ache something fierce making Roman doubtful he could.

"This will help," Orton handed him a small vile, and Roman was too worn for suspicion.

The smile that graced Orton's lips when he took it without argument made Roman's chest tighten. It wasn't malevolent by any mean, but slightly triumphant, though only in a way that made Roman feel Orton was glad to have earned his trust.

The potion was not as vile as the garlic nor ginger, but it was not pleasant either, making him grimace and the others snicker. After he handed it back, Orton did something Roman had not expected. Instead of disappearing when his task was complete he claimed a spot on the ground rather close to himself.

Roman was too tired and too worn to contemplate much farther. He opted to simply lay back and hoped to forget his ridiculous fever dream along with his glowing figure. Though, it was strange to have others so near, Roman was surprisingly comforted by the presence of the two silent men at his side as he drifted once again.

Not thinking of Ambrose, or Druids, or his bratty companion, or at least he made an attempt.

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Jostling nearby made him stir. As his eyes slid open he was aware it was still dark, yet the return of his glowing figure was as a beacon of light. Roman's skin tingled and a smile graced his lips, as with impossible but no less cherished tenderness he was once again cradled in Ambrose's arms.

Soft lips were pressed once again to his head and he sought warmth and comfort burrowing deeper. A familiar spark he would know anywhere accompanied the gentle caressing of his cheek.

"Sleep," Ambrose said gently smiling down at him with his divots on full display causing Roman to smile back sleepily.

"Beautiful," Roman mumbled as another gentle kiss was pressed to his head, but try as he might he seemed to be unable to keep his eyes from sliding closed.

As he drifted once again, though he was unsure if it was due to fever or perhaps potion, he was now certain this was what it felt like to be loved, and his glowing figure was indeed Ambrose.


	4. Apprentice of Life

Once again Roman found himself in his beloved shadows, but to his dismay they had become infested, and he could do nothing for it. Finding new shadows did no good, he had already tried, but the infestation simply followed. Roman was unsure exactly how he found himself in such a predicament, but it was here now.

Roman had awoken three days past to find he was no longer in the shadows, as it was the mid-day sun that had roused him, and he was very much alone. He pushed himself off the ground noticing that while his fever was all but gone, not only was his shoulder stiff and sore, but the rest of him as well.

Slightly disoriented he made an attempt to ease the discomfort by stretching a bit, but it seemed to do no good, and he wondered how long he had slept. While he recalled being certain his fever dreams were real and Ambrose was his glowing figure he began to question it again as he found no evidence of its truth.

Unsure how long he had been out and feeling as though he should at least do something he began to make his way through camp. No one seemed to pay him any mind, as usual, but he was surprised he was not aimlessly wondering, he found himself looking for Cena, or even Orton or Ambrose though the last one made his heart flutter.

Commotion from the direction of the road drew his attention and he started over with purpose. Though the camp seemed emptier than usual, Roman had not actually thought too much about it until he saw the group approach from the road. While he was still hazy of the events of the last week or so, his stomach sank as he caught sight of Cena, who though on his feet was covered in blood.

Unsure if it was Cena's or anothers he found himself quickening his pace to find the answer.

"He yet lives," Cena said jovially as he caught sight of Roman.

Roman, unsure of how to respond or react, still unused to not only receiving but giving any affections settled for searching for the source of the blood. As he pawed at Cena's ripped tunic worriedly the other man laughed grabbing hold of Roman's hands to stop him.

"It is not my blood," he assured him. "Not all anyway, but I am fine."

Roman still worried, narrowed his eyes recalling his wound was not so severe and yet nearly took his life. Before he could reply, though he was unsure what to say, having not found himself concerned so for another since he left his first life behind, Orton approached.

"It is good to see you on your feet again, Roman," Orton who was also splattered with blood causing farther concern, slung an arm across Roman's shoulders causing him tense at the contact and to swallow the gasp of pain.

"Forgive him," Cena smacked the back of Orton's head, who quickly snatched his arm back muttering apologies. "The Greek was born with little sense, and spending too much time with Ambrose has made him immune to the moods of others."

Roman, who was unconcerned with his own pain and very much concerned with all of the blood, was surprised when Orton chuckled at Cena's comment. Though, still gripped with inexplicable worry he felt himself smile as Orton punched Cena's shoulder playfully. He was unaware they were friendly, but before he could voice his concerns, questions or surprise aloud his hair stood on end.

Roman had been so certain Ambrose was his glowing figure, he knew he could not have mistaken that familiar spark, but the way he looked at him now made his heart sink more so than all the blood. Ambrose glared at him before turning to Orton and Cena, and while Roman's heart sank due to that, he felt it lift slightly when he saw Ambrose seemed no worse for wear.

"We have dead that need burying, and wounded that need tending," Ambrose snapped without so much as another glance at Roman before abruptly walking away.

Roman felt as though he had been slapped while Cena and Orton seemed unbothered by the other man's abruptness.

"Come Roman," Cena patted his arm sympathetically which made Roman blush feeling he had been caught in his recent inexplicable infatuation with the coarse infuriating Ambrose. "You are to apprentice as a medicus now that you are on your feet once again, and unfortunately we have current need."

Roman tensed, taken aback by his statement. Roman's hands were not made for saving life, but snuffing it out. He had neither the skill nor the touch for what they were asking of him.

"Others are in need, we must do what we can to ease their suffering, you will do fine," Orton said gently and Roman had the sudden feeling Orton was not unaware of others moods he just chose not to acknowledge them.

Roman allowed himself to be tugged forward though remained tense. He had little tolerance for others suffering. While he was a renowned Gladiator, it was due to his decisive victories, he was unwilling to drag out the contest opting to end it as quickly as possible. Now along with every other enraging thing he'd done, Ambrose sought to further torture him by forcing him to listen to men dying knowing full well he was unqualified for the task.

Despite his annoyance and trepidation Roman worked alongside Orton doing anything and everything he could for those that he was tasked to care for, while Cena took up the task of burying the dead. Apparently it had been a hunting trip gone awry when the few Raiders that survived their retaliation came back seeking their own retribution.

It was awful to listen to and his heart was heavy as he did what little he could. He held more hands, learned more names, and received more thanks in those few hours than he had in the months since he was "freed". He was so tired and weak, but could not find it in himself to abandon them.

What had torn him up even more so was that as hard as it was, he was tasked with the least injured, while Ambrose worked diligently doing what he could for the severely wounded, and Roman saw it weighed on him. It was something Roman knew he could do nothing for, but it did not lessen his desire.

It was well after dark when Roman was on the verge of collapsing as his fever began to spike once again that Orton had checked his wound given him potion and sent him to his shadows to rest. Roman refused at first, though the task was draining and difficult, but when Ambrose who had not spoken to him nor looked at him once throughout the long and weary day snapped at him to leave he complied quickly, though, only due to the stinging in his eyes and the tightening of his chest.

The potion along with exhaustion quickly pulled him under, and he was not visited by his glowing figure. It was still dark when he was shaken awake by a weary Orton, who seemed to have slept beside him once again, to head back to the infirmary a few horse later, but only once he was sure Roman's fever had receded.

When they arrived he noticed Ambrose was present and it looked as though he had yet to sleep and was bowing under the weight of his burden. Roman almost went to him, he wanted to in the worst way, but the glare he received when he met the other man's eyes stopped him in his tracks.

Orton simply shook his head sadly and tugged Roman along to begin the weary work of trying to preserve life as well as ease suffering until death made its claim. Roman worked tirelessly as the sun rose and set once again, but while his heart was heavy the mumbled though sincere gratitude he received kept him going.

Exhausted and burning up once again he made his way back to his shadows. This time not only with Orton by side, but to find the infestation. Not only was Cena already in his sanctuary, but another man he had only ever seen a few times before who he was sure was called Sheamus was there as well.

Roman started to veer off course, but Orton gripped his arm and tugged him towards the others. After his evenings dose of garlic, ginger and potion which the others enjoyed far more than he, Roman found himself drifting almost comforted by the low hum of the others conversing quietly.

Day three of his apprenticeship had begun much the same as the first, and he tried to ignore the sting of Ambrose's glare as he entered with Orton, and concentrated on doing what he could for those in need. It was still a long day, but most that were to pass on already had with very few left lingering.

Roman was sure Ambrose hadn't slept as of yet judging by the bruising under his eyes, but he continued his work doing anything and everything he could. It was something Roman found puzzling seeing as how he had been the one to speak out in favor of retaliation. What had he expected to occur?

The balance he claimed he desired would never be achieved in this way. It would only become a circle drawn in blood until there was none left to spill it.

As the sun was setting Roman found himself clasping the hand of a man barely more than a child who had been suffering and lingering for three long days afraid to move on. It was heartbreaking, but Roman did his best to comfort him, even singing softly while he waited for him to be claimed. It seemed to take forever, but no time at all. The boy as he had come to think of him had hardly seen life, and while he wasn't sure this was a life worth seeing it still made him sad.

When the boy took his final breath Roman closed his eyes feeling as though he took a piece of him too, and suddenly his heartache turned to anger. He knew this was all weighing on Ambrose, and he knew he had done what he could, but the thought none of this would have happened had they not retaliated stuck in his mind as he began to dig the boys grave feeling obligated to do so himself.

"You need to rest," Ambrose's voice came from behind him.

Roman ignored him and just continued to dig as he tried not to look at the boy he had prayed would die, but at the same time pull through, or the man he had mistakenly thought was his beacon of light. Roman had been surrounded by death most of his life, he had dealt death, but this was wholly different, and it hurt unbelievably so.

He had learned these men's names and that of their fathers, wives, and children. Where they were from and what it was they did before being called to war. He knew them, though not well, but enough to make his chest ache.

"Roman," Ambrose snapped angrily. "You must rest you are not well enough yet to be straining yourself so."

Roman's anger flared. He was not well enough to dig a hole to bury a boy who had yet to see his 15th year, but he was well enough to spend hours on end being tortured by the cries of the dying; to hold their hand as the light left their eyes?

"Do not pretend concern for my well-being," Roman snapped back unable to hold his tongue.

Roman knew his statement was false, and the pain that flashed in Ambrose's eyes made him flinch, but it did not quell his anger. The man sought to humiliate him, then torture him, and he was positive Ambrose was not his glowing figure after the past few horrid days with barely a glance.

Roman's anger was not really for Ambrose, not singularly, but he was there, and his desire for "balance" had caused this awful mess.

"This is your doing," Roman continued angrily fighting the sting in his eyes. "This is what you call balance Ambrose? This is what you wanted? Violence begets violence, it is not balance but a circle comprised of blood! The circle never ends, Ambrose, until there is no hand left to wield the blade and none left to spill."

"It is natural order," Ambrose replied quietly.

"Natural order is for one who is barely yet a man to linger in agony for three days until death finally takes him?"

"Death is natural order," Ambrose replied.

Though he could hear the sadness in the other man's voice, Roman was angry, baffled, very tired, and burning once again, but that did not stop him from stepping towards Ambrose in his fury.

"Roman," Cena's voice calling to him startled him and his head whipped around to find Orton, Cena, and Sheamus approaching.

Roman glared at them deciding he was angry at them as well, though he was unsure why. Orton reached out to touch his face when he got near, but Roman jerked back. His fever had made him confused and disoriented, so much so that he thought Ambrose had come to him in his time of need with loving gentleness, but now he saw that could not be so.

Without farther discussion he stormed off leaving them all behind along with the poor boy who had taken a part of Roman to the afterlife. He sought his shadows and collapsed when he found them fighting the tears that threatened. Roman was so very tired and so very sad.

It didn't take long for Cena, Orton, and Sheamus find him. Roman tried to make it clear that they were unwelcome by finding new shadows, but they only followed and settled themselves beside him once again.

Roman sighed, and while some of his anger had faded his heart was still heavy. Orton seemed to be unwilling to broach the subject of garlic, potions, and bindings, and Roman did not care to, so he simply lay back and closed his eyes, but was unable to find sleep.

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Roman had not heard the other man's approach, but he felt his presence as the others slumbered on. While he was still feverish, when his eyes slid open he knew this was not a dream. Ambrose did not glow. Roman felt his heart flutter and sink simultaneously as the other man stood there looking apprehensive and so very weary.

Roman nodded once, and relief washed over Ambrose's features before he stepped forward and silently began to tend to Roman's wound. Ambrose was exhausted and Roman felt terrible about what he had said to him, and though he still felt that it was true, he wanted to apologize, but was unsure how.

He consumed the garlic, ginger and potion without so much as a grimace. A strange tension hummed between them as Ambrose continued to work. He knew they both had things they wanted to say, but were uncertain how. While he was disappointed his glowing figure was not true; he wanted so badly to comfort the real Ambrose who he could see was hurting knowing he had caused some of that hurt.

It was a foreign feeling, but it was there none the less. Ambrose stood to walk away and just as he had done before Roman reached out and took a hold of his wrist. Ambrose looked so torn as Roman pleaded with his eyes for him to stay unable to find the words.

Finally, he relented after a long moment, though they still did not speak as he lay beside him. Roman was sure he was mixing his glowing figure with what was the true Ambrose, but none the less he reached out and carefully took his hand intertwining their fingers seeking to offer what comfort he could. He felt the other man tense then relax after a moment making Roman's heart flutter.

It was strangely peaceful though his heart raced and hammered so loudly the whole of the camp could surely hear it. Despite it all the potion took affect and he began drifting. Every night since the first, he hoped to dream of his glowing figure, but not this night, because just the feel of the real Ambrose's hand in his own made his heart swell.

As sleep took him he felt a gentle kiss pressed to his palm before Ambrose's soft voice reached him, "This is the first instance you did not name me beautiful."


	5. Ambrose's Charge

The sun was just waking as was Roman, who felt slightly disoriented as he surface due to an unfamiliar weight on his chest and the feel of his arms wrapped around another. Refusing to open his eyes, Roman simply tightened his grip basking in the warmth that flooded every fiber of his being, causing his heart to miss a beat: Ambrose.

Stirring to his left, which was likely what had awoken him, forced his hand and he opened his eyes to find Orton staring at him incredulously. Not him per say, but his eyes darted between Roman and the peacefully sleeping Ambrose who had somehow become nestled in his arms as they slept.

Roman softly chuckled as Orton continued to blink at them as though attempting to clear his vision, while both Cena and Sheamus stirred beaming at what they found causing Roman's cheeks to flush, but none of it diminished the lightness in his heart. His chuckle caused Ambrose to stir, but not fully wake, and for no other reason than he wished to, Roman gently pressed his lips to Ambrose's head and was rewarded with a sleepy divoted smile.

Orton cleared his throat drawing his attentions letting Roman know it was time they got to work, and Roman found himself relieved the other man was smiling now as well, though still shaking his head disbelievingly.

Carefully, as not to jostle him too much, Roman though loathed to do so, slipped from Ambrose's grasp before covering him with his own blanket gently tucking it around him. Ambrose murmured as Roman went to stand and his eyes slid open immediately finding Roman's causing his heart to miss another beat at the beautiful sleepy man's smile as he reached out to touch his face.

"Sleep," Roman captured his hand pressing his palm to his lips causing Ambrose to shutter and Roman's smile to widen. "I am well," he assured him with another gentle kiss. "Sleep, we shall wake you if there is need."

Ambrose looked torn for a moment, but still so very tired. Roman reached down gently urging the other man to let his eyes close. After an extended moment he complied, though Roman was unsure he actually had a choice, seeing how exhausted he was. He pressed his lips to Ambrose's head a final time before pushing to his feet unable to suppress his smile.

He could feel questioning gazes on his back as they made their way to begin the day's work, but Roman ignored them, mostly due to having no answers himself. Inexplicably he felt as though he left a piece of his heart with the infuriating man who was slumbering in the shadows emitting a beautiful faint light.

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Roman felt the heaviness of the past three days settle once again over his heart as they entered the infirmary and immediately began working. Two more had passed during the night, which was bitter sweet, because while Roman hated to say good-bye it meant they would no longer suffer.

Before Cena and Sheamus carried them away to their eternal resting place, Roman did something he had not done since he was a child; he prayed. Roman prayed over each of them that in death they would finally know the peace they had never been afforded in life. When finished he looked up to find Orton watching him curiously before they both resumed their work.

 

"I had doubts," Orton broke the silence that had fallen over them as they made those that yet drew breath as comfortable as possible. "Ambrose insisted you possessed the spirit of a healer, yet the way in which you wield a blade and seemingly cared for no one gave me pause. I should not be surprised he saw what others could not, as always, but I am. I thought his insistence you be left behind was more so out of concern for your safety than belief in his reasoning."

Roman looked up at Orton's words in shock causing the other man to shake his head chuckling.

"Aye, he cares for you greatly," Orton gave him a sad smile, and while Orton's words made his heart flutter his sadness made him frown. "Do not mistake it for something it is not, friend, I care for him but not as you are thinking. I wish only for his happiness; you are that happiness. My sadness is due to his stubbornness; for he will afford himself none, robbing you both of the blessing the fates sought to bestow upon you."

Roman simply continued to stare at Orton in surprise. While he knew he was trying to tell him something, he could hardly discern his meaning through the shock of his actual words.

"Do you know why he named you Roman?" Orton asked gently after a moment.

"To remind others of my hesitation," Roman's chest tightened at the bitter taste of the words.

"To remind you of your hesitation," Orton sighed and approached Roman as though he was thinking of the best way to explain what he wished to say. "Ambrose is a strange, difficult, complicated being."

Roman felt his brow scrunch in confusion at his words. Roman knew all of that, but he kept his mouth shut knowing he was going to get answers to questions he had never bothered to ask.

"I knew you were trouble when he spared your life after your hesitation let alone the fact he seemed either unable or unwilling to leave you be."

Roman felt a twinge of anger at Orton's words remembering the months of irritation Orton seemed to be blaming on Roman, but the other man patted his back gently.

"Do not mistake my meaning. I am glad he found you, I truly am. I am trying to tell you, from what I have seen you care for him just as much, but if he is what you truly wish for, you will have to fight for him, just as I did; just as we did for you."

Roman still did not speak though Orton's words made his heart beat faster, because he was not only shocked at his words, but slightly confounded, and Orton saw it. He tugged Roman out of the infirmary and back towards the woods, which made him a little nervous, but his curiosity won out.

"I do not know his tale in full," Orton looked torn, but determined. "It will most likely be my end telling what I do, but so be it."

Roman's heart ached and his eyes stung as Orton told him what he knew of Ambrose's tale. Roman had been wrong to think Ambrose had never been freed, though Ambrose had known another life before he was taken, forced to work in a brothel which was where they crossed paths. Orton informed him that was why Ambrose tensed when touch and he was so surprised to find him in Roman's arms.

Orton recounted the tale in great detail which left Roman's stomach in knots. Ambrose had been born on the emerald isle far from where they stood now. When he was hardly more than a babe his family and the rest of their village had been slaughtered in a Viking raid. No one was wholly sure why his life was spared, but he was found by a Druid who had been traveling the coast.

For eleven years he was apprenticed as a medicus, which they were named in Rome, and learned the mysterious ways of the Druids. Orton never knew why, but when Ambrose was 15 he had been in Gaul, and while left in the care of a local family was sold to the Roman's for what he would later learn was scraps of dog meat, as well as he would've been taken without the exchange.

The Roman's returned that eve and slaughtered all they did not wish to enslave.

The first year he had known Ambrose he was quiet; most that found themselves in that predicament of often were, especially in the beginning. Roman, though not wholly, knew somewhat of how they felt. His master often lent him to the rich and powerful to do with as they pleased, and it made his heart feel as though it was being shattered as it bled for their pains.

Ambrose had been nothing like he was now until the night they were both sold. There were patrons with strange tastes and desires, and on that night they found themselves together with a soldier who possessed violent and dark fantasies.

The man had taken a whip to Orton, and while Orton recalled not much of what happened since he had lost consciousness due to the pain and loss of blood, when he came too Ambrose's face was battered and bloody as he tended to him. Orton was puzzled as to why they both were still allowed to live, but two days later the commander of the man who had nearly killed him came and the reasoning was revealed.

The commander had purchased them both. When he was called to the brothel due to the disturbance, at seeing the damage Ambrose had done with just his hands as well as the skill he possessed when tending to Orton, who by all means should have already passed on he bought them. Orton learned later that he had not been part of the deal, but seeing as he was so damaged, and surely would not make it through another night he was added to the deal at Ambrose's insistence he required him.

They were brought into the folds of the Roman legions to tend to the wounded. King Alaric I had been amongst their commanding officers, and when he mutinied after being passed up for a promotion they had gone with him, eventually finding themselves in their current situation.

"Ambrose only names you so, because he wants you to remember who took your life from you," Orton explained. "To remind you, you are in fact not a Roman, and it was they who stole your life just as they did the rest of us. He wished to instill the desire for vengeance and balance he himself possesses as well as the desire you lacked to fight, or even live as it was when we found you."

Roman felt tears sliding down his cheeks as Orton finished his tale. His heart ached for them, and explained so much, but he could not see what good was achieved by darkening the circle of blood. He had grown weary of fighting and death well before he left the sands of the arena behind.

"A Druid which desires blood," Roman said quietly shaking his head though unaware he had spoken aloud.

"He desires balance," Orton corrected.

"This is not balance, it is an everlasting circle of bloodshed," Roman replied. "It will never end."

"Aye, but Druids believe in balance, it is natures order," Orton's voice was grave and sad. "The circle of life and death is never ending and will continue on long after we cease to draw breath. He seeks only to balance it as he might, by not only shedding the blood of those who shed much of their own, but preserving life where he may. It is a difficult and weary task, but his burden to bear none the less."

Roman's thoughts were jumbled, and while he could see their point, he did not agree apart from preserving life where they may.

"To hasten that circle brings not balance, only misery."

Orton gave Roman a sad smile then nodded as though he understood and possibly agreed, but was letting him know it would change nothing. Roman's heart broke for his beautiful glowing figure and new companion wishing there was some way to right the wrongs that had befallen them.

"Agree or no, Ambrose sees providing that balance as his charge from the gods," Orton looked even sadder. "It is why he fights what he feels for you, because it distracts him from his charge. I was surprised when he stayed with you on the eve of our return until the sun rose. He does not sleep nor leave the infirmary when there are others in need, but he went to you, and he stayed with you… He deals only in death and life; never love."

"He has love for you," Roman pointed out though he had a million questions.

"Aye," Orton actually chuckled. "I have forced his hand just as you must if he is truly what you desire. He is a stubborn man, but he cares for you in a way in which I have never seen him care for another. He is worth the fight Roman, never doubt that regardless of how hard it becomes."

Roman felt dumbstruck. It was all very much overwhelming, but he found he possessed the desire to fight for the first instance in a long time; to fight for Ambrose. Before he could respond he heard Ambrose call out from inside the tent, and notice how just the sound of his voice sent his heart racing.

"It is mid-afternoon," Ambrose snapped as he approached. "Why did you not wake me?"

Ambrose's glare did little to diminish his desire to fight for him, it only strengthened his resolve.

"You are no good to anyone dead on your feet," Roman though nervous reached out to him and caressed his cheek causing Ambrose to tense. "It has been nothing we could not handle; this is not a burden you must bear alone."

Ambrose's features softened slightly as he stared at Roman seemingly torn once again.

Roman dug deep down inside for his courage and gently pressed his lips to the other man's head. Ambrose simply stared at him unsure what to say or do. After a long moment of staring at one another Roman let his hand drop back to his side making Ambrose and himself a silent promise before departing to tend to those in need forcing Ambrose to share the weight of his burden.

Roman felt something he had never experienced before as he walked away trying to afford Ambrose whatever space he required to sort himself out for now. It was almost a disconcerting feeling, which he could hardly describe, but it also only served to solidified his resolve to fight for his glowing figure as he prayed that Ambrose would chose to go with him when he sought true freedom.


	6. Never

Roman was stunned, yet not wholly dismayed to find the infestation had not only worsened, but his beloved shadows were shadows no longer. Roman sat quietly in the dancing fire light wearing a small smile as the others jested and laughed. Another time, perhaps this would have sent him scrambling for new shadows, but he felt as though so much had changed as of late: everything had changed.

Walking away from Ambrose had proven harder than he imagined, but knew if he pushed too soon the other man would only pull away, so he returned to his weary yet rewarding work. Some of the burden seemed to have lifted as he found something in this miserable world worth fighting for: Ambrose.

Ambrose and Orton returned after what Roman, though he could not discern words, could hear had been an impressive row. He counted it among victories that while Ambrose did not look at him when he entered he did not glare at him either.

Orton, however, had given him a conspiratorial smile, but as he approached Roman noticed his teeth were stained crimson. Ambrose may not have glared at him, but Roman shot him a glare of his own when he saw Orton's split lip who seemed to be watching him when he thought he was not looking.

Ambrose possessed the good grace to look ashamed at Roman's glare, before moving to tend to Orton himself muttering soft apologies, causing Orton's eyes to widen and his jaw to slacken, leaving him unable to accept them even if he wished to.

The day wore on with Orton smiling to himself and even humming, while Ambrose remained quiet and tense, and Roman concentrated on the tasks at hand attempting to ignore them both, while attempting to decide how to proceed with his new resolution. A few Hours after the sun set Ambrose spoke his first words to him since reentering the tent.

"You must rest, Roman," Ambrose said gently taking the binding he had been changing from his hands.

Roman had felt his fever creeping back slowly, but he was hesitant to take his leave. They had few patients left, but he could also see that while the sleep he had finally allowed himself had done Ambrose some good he was still worn.

"As must you," Roman's voice was quiet but firm and perhaps slightly pleading.

Ambrose remained silent for a moment as he tied off the binding. His increased tension told Roman he was warring with himself, but Roman did not move away nor avert his gaze determined to force the other man's hand.

"I will be along soon with potion and bindings." Ambrose's voice quivered slightly making Roman's chest ache, and when their eyes finally met he saw fear as well as a tenderness he had never fathomed from the coarse man, before he made his plea. "Please, you must rest Roman."

Roman felt as though his voice had been stolen as well as the air from his lungs, leaving him barely able to nod. He felt his eyes sting at the relieved but tired smile that graced Ambrose's lips before he turned away again. Roman wished to follow him and perhaps hold him, but resigned himself to do as bid.

Orton, as per usual of late accompanied him back to his sanctuary. He was unsurprised to find Cena and Sheamus, but was surprised to see they were joined by another. One of the less severely wounded, a Frank, he had tended by the name of Dolph had joined them.

Dolph was more jovial than even Cena, and while he was quite small compared to others he was skilled in battle and possessed the heart of a warrior twice his size.

Roman was too tired to be too irked by the addition, but he did find it in him to glare at Cena who as usual simply laughed at him as Orton slung an arm over his shoulder causing the others to join Cena in his mirth when Roman narrowed his eyes at him as well.

Roman's hair stood on end making his heart race a moment before the laughter abruptly halted, though their smiles remained. Roman couldn't help his own as he nodded to an uncertain Ambrose as he claimed his spot on the ground. After a pause, Ambrose who Roman surmised had never been so uncertain in his life, seemed to gather himself before settling beside him concentrating on his task.

It took but a moment for the others to rein in their surprise and they began carrying on once again. Their laughter along with Ambrose's gentle touch lifted Roman's spirits; even more so when he saw the small smile on Ambrose's lips.

That was until it was time to take his potion, garlic, and ginger. Their laughter irked him, including Ambrose's, as it was directed at him when he grimaced.

Roman's irritation disappeared altogether as, though finished with his task, Ambrose did not rise and leave; instead he settled himself beside Roman. Roman could feel the heat from his body making his skin tingle slightly and it very difficult not to move closer. When the potion took affect he found he was loath to lie down and fought against it.

"Sleep, Roman," Ambrose whispered leaning in close causing chills ran up his spine though his heavy lids drooped.

Ambrose smiled with his divots on full display at Roman's shutter, before without another word he gently urged Roman to lie back, then tucked his blanket around him carefully. Roman wanted to pull Ambrose down with him and hold him in his arms once again, though he knew he should not to push too much, it still made him frown.

Roman's heart soared to heights it had never known when at his frown Ambrose sighed, but with a crooked smile reached for his hand intertwining their fingers as the potion pulled him under.

The next several days proceeded with Ambrose neither glaring at him too much nor ignoring him wholly; and even offering tentative smiles on occasion. They still had their moments of course, though as Roman did not push too much, still took Orton's advice and pushed when he thought it necessary. It did not always end as he hoped, but every evening Ambrose still slept beside him none the less, which he counted among the very few true victories in his life.

While he had yet to find Ambrose nestled in his arms again, he held hope that someday soon it would be so and perhaps even in a land far from here, in the world which Roman had truly been born. He found himself even smiling and laughing on occasion. In these dark times he had found a beacon of light in the infuriating Ambrose.

Everything had changed so completely in mere weeks.

So much so that when the final invader brought light into his beloved shadows he could not find it in him to protest. Roman remained slightly weary of the man called Stardust whose ramblings left him unable to discern from where he truly hailed, yet Cena possessed a soft spot for him, so Roman accepted him none the less. Same as he had Dolph, due to the smiles he seemed to bring Sheamus, who was less inclined than even Roman to converse, and seemingly as course as Ambrose.

This was how Roman had come to find himself not only accepting the infestation, but almost enjoying it. While Ambrose was his beacon of light, they all made it somehow seem slightly less gloomy. Though currently, he was slightly concerned with the absence of Ambrose at what was a late hour, but also embarrassed by to his inability to find sleep due to it though he was exhausted.

"He is fine," Sheamus patted his back roughly as he noticed him searching once again.

Roman knew he was most likely right, but it did not quell his concern, or enable him to find sleep. Cena, who shared Sheamus's sentiments, but also knew Roman would not rest until he was certain and Ambrose was beside him, simply smiled laughing and rolled his eyes as Roman finally pushed to his feet.

Roman nodded to those that offered him greeting, which as of yet still felt strange, as he made his way through camp to where he somehow knew he would find Ambrose. For all his talk of balance and natural order it all weighed on him heavily. Roman headed to what was the final resting place of those they could not save.

Sticking to the shadows out of habit, and moving quietly for no other purpose than as not to disturb him, he watched Ambrose pray over the grave of the boy who took a piece of Roman with him. He felt his eyes sting thinking of how many had taken a piece of Ambrose with them as well. Heart missed a beat when Ambrose's head whipped around as a twig cracked under his foot in his distraction.

"Apologies," Roman mumbled embarrassed as his cheeks flushed.

While they were no longer as vinegar and water they still had their moments of irritation with one another and the last thing Roman wished was for Ambrose to be angry with him thinking he was spying, though the truth was embarrassing causing him to stutter.

"I only… I did not mean to disturb you… I was not… it is late… you had not…" Ambrose had not moved and Roman could not discern his mood by faint starlight, which only made him panic. In his sudden panic the truth slipped out as he continued to speak quickly, "it is late, I was concerned, and I could not find sleep absent your presence."

Ambrose pushed to his feet as Roman blushed furiously and clamped his hand over his mouth though the words had already escaped. He felt his panic and embarrassment mount as he stood there like a fool while Ambrose walked agonizingly slowly towards him, but it all vanished when he saw the other man's cheeks were damp.

Without thinking and his heart in his throat Roman found his feet carrying him forward to offer whatever comfort he may. Roman encircled him in his arms pulling him tight to his chest. Ambrose tensed and Roman knew he was once again warring with himself so he simply held on tight hoping it would pass, and after a moment Ambrose surrendered and melted into him simultaneously melting and stealing Roman's heart once and for all.

Roman held him as tight as he dare gently rocking him, and while his heart broke for his pain, it also soared at his acceptance of his affections and comfort; even so he would do anything to take his pains and share his burdens.

It was all so very new to him, but he continued to kiss the other man's head murmuring softly seeking to ease whatever had upset him in any way he could. It was slightly unsettling and though he felt his own tears beginning to fall as well, he would change it for nothing.

After what could have been minutes or hours Ambrose finally looked up at him with his beautiful blue eyes bloodshot from his tears and shinning with fear and apprehension.

"Apologies," Ambrose finally sniffled his voice laced with embarrassment. "What you must think of me now…"

"I know that you are the most stubborn, coarse, infuriating man I have ever crossed paths with," Ambrose scowled though more tears leaked out even as he narrowed his eyes, but Roman chuckled gripping his chin to for him to keep his eyes before he continued softly. "I know that you are a honorable, compassionate, brilliant, and brave man. You are by no means perfect, Ambrose, and while there are not many blessings in this miserable world, I also know you are my greatest."

In his desire to let the other man know he was loved for everything he was and everything he wasn't along with being caught up in the moment, Roman bent his head, and gently kissing away a stray tear as though he could kiss away his hurts. Ambrose immediately tensed and while he didn't jerk completely out of his grip he pulled back quickly causing Roman's heart to sink.

"Apologies," Roman mumbled quickly as he let his arms drop to his side stepping back blushing and cursing himself.

Roman was mortified and certain he had just destroyed everything he had managed to build between them these past few weeks. It was an awful feeling, and unbidden Roman's eyes began to fill again. In seeking to offer comfort he had most likely made sure none would be accepted ever again. His heart shattered at the realization as his tears escaped.

Ambrose was just as frozen as Roman, and when his tears began to fall again as well, Roman had no idea what to do. He wanted to hug him and hold him, but at the same time run and hide where no one could find him and he would never have to face his mistake.

As he continued to stare dumbstruck and devastated he could not read the emotions that flashed in Ambrose's eyes. Roman was certain he had just ruined everything. With that thought and more than just silent tears threatening he found it in him to turn away though it tore him up to do so.

"Roman," Ambrose's voice sounded desperate which made his heart ache as much as the familiar spark at his touch that he would likely never feel again when his hand clamped down on his wrist.

Roman scrunched his eyes shut as his tears flowed faster waiting for the other man to yank him around and hit him, which he felt it was more than justified. Ambrose's grip was tight and his nails dug into his flesh. He wanted to jerk his arm free and make his escape, yet he was too afraid, because it could be the last instance he ever felt his touch.

"Do not leave," Ambrose said after a moment. "Do not lose faith in me Roman."

Roman's eyes opened slowly as he let out the breath he had been holding hardly daring to believe he heard correctly.

"I know…" the tears in Ambrose's voice were apparent as Roman turned his head with his stomach in his throat as he dared to hope he had not ruined everything. "I am difficult and stubborn… and though I do not deserve it… I..."

Ambrose trailed off and his sadness broke Roman's heart all over again as his grip lessened. Roman was too shocked by his words to respond due to the fact he felt the exact opposite. It was he who was undeserving. Ambrose brought light into his miserable existence.

"I just…apologies," Ambrose was pleading with him now. "You already possess my heart, Roman... it has long belonged to you... please be patient with me… do not give up on me... please."

Time stood still for a moment as Roman remained frozen in his shock. Ambrose suddenly leaned in and gently pressed his lips to his causing a spark more powerful than anything he'd ever felt. Though it was brief and barely more than a peck, Roman felt as though Ambrose's soul had reached out and caress his own.

Ambrose pulled back gently before looking at him beseechingly still pleading. "Please do not lose faith in me, Roman."

Roman was still stunned but as Ambrose let his hands fall and went to turn away Roman reached out and pulled the other man close, hoping he could see in his eyes what he knew not how to put in words. Still he put everything inside of him into the one word he spoke.

"Never."


	7. Impossibly Infuriating Beautiful Blessing

"Never," Ambrose repeated the word under his breath and he dug his fingers in the dirt for more wild garlic unable to help his small smile. Until he heard that word leave Roman's lips he never fathomed one word could mean so much to any one person. Ambrose was placing everything he was and everything he could possibly be into that one word. It was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced in his life, aside from when he thought Roman was walking away from him forever.

From the moment he saw the tall raven haired man he felt his heart skip a beat before it began to race, and it had nothing to do with battle. It was not much of a battle in any case; Roman and Cena seemed to be only ones who possessed the ability to wield a blade. They possessed greater skill than any Ambrose had ever seen since his days with the Druids, and while they both fought viciously, he could see that for Roman it seemed to be out of habit, not desire. It made his chest ache.

When he had looked into the beautiful man's eyes with his sword poised offering him opportunity Roman's hesitation broke his heart. He possessed no real will to live. Ambrose's masters had taken his body and what his life should have been, but not his will. They had almost taken that as well, but when Orton had lost consciousness and Ambrose knew he would soon pass it ignited something inside of him.

Not for himself, but for Orton, and he found his fight. Orton often thought he owed Ambrose a debt, but Ambrose felt he owed Orton, who had given him intention. It was strange as he and Orton were never friendly, though the man pestered him constantly, but they were now as brothers none the less. He was forever indebted to the rather talkative and sensitive Greek.

Ambrose found his way back to his roots as he tended to Orton praying for the first time since he was taken. When Orton pulled through it was a sign from the gods. Ambrose vowed to do their bidding and provide the balance he neglected in his despair. The soldier that had almost taken Orton's life lived not to see another moons cycle as Ambrose accepted his charge, nor did countless others for that matter. He found his desire for vengeance and balance.

Ambrose detested the Romans greatly, but somehow even more so in the raven haired man's moment of hesitation. Someone so beautiful and so strong reduced to simply waiting for the gods to have mercy on his poor soul. Ambrose was now certain regardless of the other man's decision his blade would have never fallen, but it did not mean it did not anger him, though he knew now it was more hurt rather than anger.

For months Ambrose channeled that hurt into anger as he often did, it was how he survived, while knowing full well he was unwelcome at Roman's side he never lost faith. Ambrose had tried all he could think of to get something out of the other man for months. When he would not even speak his name and Cena would not reveal it either Ambrose had tried to remind who was responsible for his hurts, but his eyes remained dull.

Orton bid him to leave Roman alone, but he could not no matter how hard he tried. Ambrose was drawn to him, and while the silence and rejection made his heart ache, sometimes though infrequently, he got a spark of life that made it impossible to abandon his attempts. He took his cue from Orton who had never let him be though he had pleaded with him and continued to press on. Though he was worried Roman might be a test from his gods.

Ambrose was unaware just when his determination to force the man to find intent turned into something more, but the fateful night everything changed for all of them as Roman stormed away in his anger Ambrose became fully aware that the silent sad man had long possessed his heart. It was terrifying.

Though he was young when he lost his true family he recalled the blood and still heard their cries in his slumber. They man that had taken them had simply walked away as Ambrose sat in the corner rocking with his knees drawn tightly to his chest unseen, unable to even find a tear to shed. He hardly remembered doing it, but he had picked up a fallen blade and spilled the blood of a man he had watched spill so much.

The Druid who found him starving on the beach and covered in blood had named him Ambros, which in Celtic Gaelic meant "immortal", for he had been the only survivor out of hundreds. The kind old man had taken him in and shown him their mysterious ways insisting there was a reason for it all. While he seemed to have been born in blood his charge was to be balance, and it was determined he should be a healer, though he they all still trained as warriors.

His charge of balance required he save life where he may, but also spill blood as was necessary to preserve natural order. It was such a weary task, and while he learned much their numbers were few. They had been traveling, or as Ambrose saw it now running from extinction as a new religion had taken root even in the oldest tribes, when he was taken. He still knew not why he had been left behind that night, and now he saw there had to be reason, it had still nearly broke him.

The Roman's had slaughtered all they did not wish to keep and he was then carted away and an "E" was added to his name. The time he spent in the brothel was hazy at best, though he still possessed an aversion to being touched most of the time. His new life began in the Roman Legions and eventually is his current situation with Orton by his side as he tried to leave it all behind him; to forget his heart ache and pain just focusing on anger, balance, and vengeance; then what he had become certain was his test from the gods tilted his world on it's head.

Ambrose had not seen it as a blessing, instead a test he was failing miserably, but still he could not leave it be, he would not leave it be. His rationalization for leaving Roman behind was flimsy at best, and while Orton did not believe it for a moment the Chief had agreed. Ambrose knew Roman would be angry, but he was offering him another opportunity as well; to provide balance. He knew not why, but he was certain Roman possessed the spirit of a healer, though his hands were undeniably stained with blood.

Roman's anger had cut deeper than he could have ever imagine though he knew it was coming. That was why he could not respond immediately. He sat there torn as to what to say or do. The other man possessed such a hatred for him, which he did not blame him for, it enabled him to only mutter what had allowed his survival. Orton had saved him from possibly divulging everything making sure his test from the gods did not end in utter failure right then and there.

Ambrose found his anger at the dirty binding knowing it could be Roman's end and his efforts would have been in vain. He clung to that anger as he walked away. Six eternal days he had been separated from Roman, and worried for him knowing he would likely shirk his instructions out of his distaste for Ambrose. Orton had gone to check on him immediately without being bid knowing Ambrose was beside himself.

Ambrose had put everything he possessed into healing the stubborn silent man who by all accounts should no longer drawn breath. His heart had stopped when Roman mumbled of dreaming of him, but he had chocked it up to fever. Ambrose considered himself far from beautiful, which meant he could not possibly have known it was him.

Still, Ambrose prayed and rocked him kissing his head begging him to hang on until the sun had come up, and he had no choice but to tend to his charges. Three had passed in his absence and he cursed himself as he lost two more for his weakness. They may have passed none the less, but he was furious with himself.

Orton had suggested Cena watch over Roman as he saw Ambrose was distracted in his worry; while they never seemed friendly they had come to them together so Ambrose agreed. It did not stop him from going to Roman again in the darkest hours before dawn. Ambrose knew he was weak, but this felt like a new low.

He was failing his test miserably, and every time he laid eyes on Roman it reminded him of his weakness, and the weakness that had befallen him in the brothel before he found his intent. Ambrose had questioned his wisdom at making Roman his apprentice when they'd come back from that awful hunting trip and at seeing him on his feet it was almost impossible not to run to him as well as the pang of jealousy he felt at seeing him smile at Orton and Cena.

Ambrose had never felt so at war with himself, especially when Roman had made him question his convictions. Orton often talked circles around its sense, but the anger, hurt and passion that emanated from the man he inexplicably had come to love struck him somewhere he knew not existed.

It tore him up, and made him feel worse than he had ever could have imagined. In his eternal weakness he had gone to him again and while he accepted his presence his heart sank when he did not name him beautiful. It was stupid and he knew it, but when Roman reached out and took his hand his heart soared.

Ambrose had awoken alone to the noon day sun, and while the memory of waking up in Roman's arms and of gentle kisses made him smile unbidden, his heart sank at his weakness and failure. Sleep had been needed, but he had neglected his charge. Roman's tenderness when he had snapped at them had taken him so off guard he froze, but once he had walked away Orton had begun to yell at him and Ambrose yelled back.

He had never intended to hit him, but he was so jumbled as of late, and when Orton drew attention to the fact he was being thick and seeing a blessing as a test along with ruining the only good thing that had been afforded him in such a long time he had snapped. Mostly due to its truth, but he felt horrid instantly. Roman's disapproval had made it that much worse.

Everything good in his life had been snatched away aside from Orton and Ambrose was more afraid than ever, especially as they held their breath waiting to be called to the front lines that Roman would prove his ruin. He did not think he could come back from the loss. Ambrose was trying his damnedest not to throw away his blessing, but it was all so new and so terrifying he was just blundering through it.

He had been praying as he often did for the souls he could not save as well as those he had taken and it had all overwhelmed him. When he saw Roman he had been so embarrassed causing him to freeze, but when he saw Roman struggling he went to him though he had never been so nervous. Ambrose had all but forgotten about everything else while he was in Roman's arms.

He fought it at first like he had for so many months, but as it all came crashing down around him he surrendered. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once; he wanted to run away and never let go. Roman's words had touched his heart in a way he had never experienced, and while he wanted nothing more in than moment than Roman when his lips brushed away his tears and some of his pain he had panicked.

Roman's devastation and tears told him he ruined it. Orton had warned him and he had been trying, but it was unbelievably difficult. When Roman turned away his panic morphed into desperation. As terrifying as everything had been nothing was more terrifying than the thought of losing Roman forever. Roman was his beacon of light and his blessing as well, so it all poured forth from him as he begged for patience and faith.

When his words had no effect, which did not surprise him, because he had never had a way with words, he dug deep for his courage and pressed his lips to Roman's in attempts to show him. It was brief, because it was all he could manage and beyond difficult for him, he had never willingly done anything of the sort, but oh so amazingly breath taking.

It felt as though his whole world was hanging in the balance as he looked up at the man he loved, but could not find the words so he simply pleaded with his eyes, and then… "Never."

One word, so simple, but nothing had ever meant so much to him. No more words were spoken; words were not their strong suite, as Roman carefully took his hand and led him back to their companions who all wore smiles that caused him to blush. Never had he fathomed something in this horrible world would be so… good and light, but it was here now, and Ambrose had never been so grateful in all his life.

He knew he was coarse and hard on the outside, it was who he had to become to survive to compensate for the fact he had always been somewhat soft. Life had made him as he was now, and he was trying to his new blessing make him something different; let Roman make him something different. That night as he fell asleep in Roman's arms he made them both a silent promise he fully intended to keep with everything he was.

"I hope that is not more of your awful garlic," Roman's voice made his heart race as it came from behind him, and while Ambrose knew he hated garlic the fact his voice still possessed a tenderness solely reserved for him made him smile.

"Perhaps next time you will pay more attention," Ambrose pushed to his feet and pushed a fresh bulb of garlic into his hand.

Roman scowled at him causing him to laugh, and while they had already had a row as to who was at fault, all had been forgiven and it had become somewhat of a private joke. Even as he scowled at the garlic and Ambrose the small smile he had been trying to suppress made Ambrose's heart flutter, and not for the first time since they met he had the urge to press his lips to Roman's and wrap him in his arms never letting go.

"You are impossibly infuriating," Roman grumble at his smirk.

"I thought I was a beautiful blessing," Ambrose cocked his eyes brow playfully making Roman's scowl soften.

Ambrose could see in his eyes Roman desired the same thing as he, but was being patient as he had asked which only heightened Ambrose's desire.

"An impossibly infuriating beautiful blessing," Roman amended with mock reluctance.

The sun was just setting causing soft light to play off Roman's features making him all the more beautiful. Cautiously Ambrose stepped forward encircling him in his arms. It was terrifying, but at the same time felt unbelievably good. As Roman tensed he knew he was just as unready for much else just as Ambrose, but the desire was there, and that alone was enough for now.

"You are glowing," Roman said softly cradling him gently and caressing his cheek.

"Glowing?"

"Aye, glowing," Roman pressed his lips to his head causing Ambrose to shutter and Roman to chuckle in satisfaction, "so beautiful."

Ambrose felt as though his heart was in his throat. No one had ever looked at him, nor held him, and cherished him with such reverence; it stole the air from his lungs, but also afforded him courage. He looked up at Roman questioningly and the small smile he received he took as permission.

His heart hammered as his palms began to sweat and he took a steady breath before carefully leaning and gently pressing his lips to the other man's. This time he felt Roman's lips mold to his own, and while last time had been remarkable his desperation had dulled what he could feel now more than he ever thought possible.

Roman's lips were soft, yet somehow unyielding as they synchronized movement with his own. Every fiber of his being vibrated and gave off and incredible amount of heat. It felt like too much, but like it would never be enough as he tugged Roman closer. He tangled his fingers in the other man's hair and received a surprised, but satisfied gasp that stirred something with in him he thought he no longer possessed.

It was still tentative and careful, but more intense than anything he had ever felt. Ambrose wanted more, he felt as though he needed more, which caused him slight panic and his hands began to shake. Roman felt his sudden tension and unease which caused Ambrose's eyes to sting wishing he was somehow different, as the other man pulled back gently and cradled his face tenderly.

"Never," Roman whispered with an unfathomable amount of love in his eyes causing Ambrose's heart to soar as it melted simultaneously, before Roman pulled him into his chest.

"Never," Ambrose whispered back as a tear slide down his cheek and soaked into Roman's tunic.

One simple word, yet it meant so much. It was everything to Ambrose, and so much more. It was his hopes, his dreams, his fears, his blessing, his curse, his balm and his future all rolled into one.

"Never."


	8. Chapter 8

Their fire was little more than embers as Roman pressed his lips to the head of the man who had become his heart while he peacefully slept in his arms once again emitting a beautiful pale light and their no less cherished companions slumbered around them. It was all still so new and overwhelming, but no less precious. Roman had intended on leaving and never looking back, but in leaving he would lose his heart, and could hardly bear even the thought.

The darkest hours before the dawn had previously been spent imagining a family he had never known, and now it was spent thanking the gods for the one he had now. They were by no means perfect and a bit uncouth, but they were his and that made them perfect. Roman had never thought he would experience any kind of love let alone the love he knew Ambrose held for him, though Ambrose would never dare speak it aloud.

When Ambrose had kissed him it was like nothing he ever felt in his existence, and though it was careful and gentle he had almost gotten carried away when Ambrose pulled him closer wrapping his fingers in hair. It had been almost too much and the gasp that left him was a mixture of surprise and pleasure before he felt Ambrose tense.

Roman had meant it with everything he was when he told Ambrose he would never lose faith, and he was with no question willing to be patient for however long need be, but it by no means meant he did not desire him. Roman was unsure he was ready himself, the strength of his desire frightened him, but he wanted everything with Ambrose, and even though it was frightening he found that included a way he had never previously desired.

It was not as though he did not possess carnal knowledge of another; simply it had never been due to his desire, and while Roman had been used for pleasures; Ambrose had been used to fulfill fetishes and fantasies he wanted to not even imagine. The last thing in the world Roman wanted was to make his beloved feel anything but loved and cherished. Roman wished for Ambrose's desire to match his own before he would allow them to cross that bridge.

Roman simply held him giving Ambrose what ever time he needed knowing he still struggled, and while Roman knew Ambrose was as resolute as he was, it did not mean it was not difficult. The sun had finally set when they made their way back to what was now their sanctuary as the stars twinkled in the sky somehow brighter than before. Roman was unsure whether it was due to the waning moon or the new lightness of his heart, but he knew the world as a whole had somehow become brighter as of late.

Ambrose held his hand in such a way that made Roman's heart swell as though he never planned on letting him go, or he was afraid he may disappear into thin air as they approach their new family. It made it impossible for Roman to hide his smile as he brushed his thumb across the back of Ambrose's hand soothingly in attempts to ease him.

Stardust was prancing around the fire that Cena was building while chuckling and smiling affectionately at the bizarre being, as he preferred to be named. Sheamus and Dolph seemed to be having somewhat of a disagreement, but Roman knew though they bickered frequently it was more due to Dolph's amusement at getting a rise out of Sheamus, and shook his head at seeing Dolph's eyes sparkle as the rather course Sheamus glared at him.

However, when his eyes landed on Orton Roman's smile faltered, and he knew by the way Ambrose's hand squeezed his he saw it too. Orton was by far the most friendly and talkative of them all, but only when it came to things that concerned others. The rather sensitive Greek hardly ever showed concern for his own well-being, wishes, or needs.

Roman squeezed Ambrose's hand back with affection and reassurance before though he was loathed to do so he let go, and made his way to see what was plaguing his friend. While Roman was by no means an expert when it came to comfort or emotions in general, he was still far better at it than Ambrose, and was willing to broach the unsettling foreign things for a man that was not only a friend, but as a brother.

Orton offered him a smile when he saw his approach and held up a drinking skin that made Roman wrinkle his nose at the scent of potent wine. Roman was not a fan of drink so he waved it away, but offered his own smile as Ambrose settled himself near enough to let Orton know he was concerned, but far enough in fear he would somehow make it all the more worse.

Roman shook his head finding it unfathomable that the man who had proven to be his saving grace would think so little of himself promising to rectify it as soon as he was able, which he knew would take time due to Ambrose's stubbornness, before turning his attentions in full to Orton.

"You are welcome, by the way, friend," Orton teased smiling at him affectionately, though his eyes were glassy from drink causing Roman concern.

"Is it my failure to offer proper gratitude that plagues you so," Roman attempted to keep his words light, but is true concern seeped in. "You can stop sulking then, brother, because I am forever in your debt and offer my eternal thanks for the role you play in my sudden, but no less prized gladness."

"Did I not say he was worth the fight, Roman," Orton smiled with genuine happiness for them as he bumped Roman's shoulder playfully, yet his eyes still held a sadness that caused Roman to feel the need to clarify his meaning.

"You mistake my meaning," Roman told him seriously but gently. "Aye, he is worth the world to me, and while I would brave storming the gates of Pluto, or Hades as you know it, to keep him at my side… I would be no less willing to do the same for you."

Roman felt nervous voicing the truth still weary of such things, but the incredulous look on his companions face mixed with warmth he had only ever seen from Orton when it came to Ambrose caused him to feel such a way he could hardly describe, so he just returned Orton's playful bump. Roman almost felt prideful as Orton shock and most of his sadness disappeared, but before he could respond Sheamus's irritated voice cut in.

"You think that you possess strength equal to mine own?"

"I know," Dolph drew is words out seemingly to farther irritate the other man. "That technique is of far more importance than simply strength, and am merely suggesting a contest as to determine who speaks truer."

Roman eyed the hammer in Dolph's hand as he held it up to Sheamus, who looked wholly unsure most likely due to the conviction in Dolph's voice, but never one to turn tail snatched it away. The commotion had drawn everyone's attentions as Sheamus prepared to make a go Stardust clapped excitedly dancing around him before Cena snatched him backward pulling him into his chest as to prevent him from being struck when Sheamus spun to make his throw.

"We are awaiting to be amazed by your insurmountable strength, oh great one," Dolph teased with his eyes twinkling when Sheamus froze at the hiss that escaped Stardust though Cena somehow managed to calm him and stop him struggling.

Sheamus narrowed his eyes at Dolph and Roman was surprised to see he looked almost as wary as he did determined as they all gathered round to watch the spectacle. Sheamus's first toss put a rather deep gouge in a tree not too far off making them all laugh as Dolph refused him another go claiming part of technique included missing whatever obstacles there may be.

Dolph took his turn and while he too hit a tree it was farther along, so he claimed victory much to Sheamus's dismay who demanded an immediate rematch. Dolph reluctantly obliged and soon it turned into somewhat of a free for all as everyone wanted to try their hand. Roman was content to simply watch laughing and making jokes. He was relieved to see whatever had plagued Orton before was seemingly gone as he took his turn, tossing it even farther than Dolph.

Cena managed to hit the closest tree from where they stood, but took it all in good spirits laughing even more so at Sheamus's scowl than even Dolph making Roman think he had done it on purpose. Roman watched fascinated as Ambrose stepped up to take his turn. He stood there for a few moments with his eyes close breathing deep and even. An embarrassing amount of pride shot through him as without lifting his lids Ambrose spun and released besting them all.

While Sheamus tried to keep up his scowl Roman could he was fighting a smile as Stardust who was bouncing with excitement declared it was now his turn and with the support of the cosmos would surely best them all, even the Druid. Roman was watching him fondly as he pranced around preparing to throw when suddenly Ambrose was there and to his great surprise, but elation in his arms with no trace of tension as he smiled up at him before turning and leaning his back against Roman's chest to watch the spectacle once again.

Roman was unsure his heart could feel any lighter than it did with all the laughter and teasing, but even as it sped up it soared to new heights with Ambrose now in his arms. It was as though every minute of every day he was afforded new blessings since he found his beacon of light. Stardust's method was stranger than even Ambrose's who had not even bothered to look where he was going, but surprisingly more effective.

With one final hiss their excitable brother spun and released the hammer, but not as they had, which was straight forward, but up and over the trees. Stardust continued to bounce around at his victory when they all chuckled in disbelief as he bowed. Roman smiled as he watched Cena shake of his surprise and rush forward lifting the strange man up into his arms laughing at Stardust's yelp.

"I believe that more than anything proves I spoke truer," Dolph laughing patted Sheamus's arm affectionately who looked rather distraught for a moment before he turned on Roman.

"Not so fast wee one," Sheamus's eyes now sparkled. "Roman has not tried his hand as of yet."

Roman felt his eyes widen a bit as he was perfectly content to observe with his arms wrapped around Ambrose with no intent to involve himself. His reaction caused the others to laugh again, yet it hardly compared to his reaction when Ambrose though still chuckling spun in his arms gave him a quick but searing kiss before motioning him to have a try stealing his breath away.

The uproarious laughter hardly registered as he simply stood there blinking at a smug Ambrose, but even the amusement could not derail Sheamus from attempting to prove himself right as he stalked forward and tugged Roman to what had become their starting point. Roman was still dazed, but incredibly happy as Orton darted away to retrieve the hammer.

As he weighed the hammer in his hand he had no real desire to prove anything one way or the other, but he was sure in his current state he could achieve anything he wished. The others clapped and laughed as he began to spin, yet just as he let go the ruckus died down as a lone rider charged through camp towards the Chief's tent.

The hammer was forgotten instantly as while though no words were spoken they all knew what it meant; negotiations had gone sour. Their laughter died and a whole new aura surrounded them; they were being ordered to march on Rome.

In silence they all gathered around the fire, yet this time sat closer, taking comfort in one another, though still all lost in their own thoughts. A mere month ago such familiarity would have caused them all great anxiety. Roman felt his eyes begin to sting. While he had never enjoyed neither taking life nor battle, though he had vast experience with both, he had never been more terrified in his life, and he could see the others felt the same as he looked around at his family.

Roman felt his eyes fill at the thought of losing any of them for any reason, but especially for a matter in which they were never given a real choice. Roman had no love for Rome and detested slavery as much as anyone, still he felt a tear slide down his cheek as in a surprising but no less valued gesture Ambrose settled himself, not next to Roman, but between outstretched legs and rested his back once again against his chest letting Roman pull him in close.

Roman was sure Ambrose needed it just as much as him, but it did not lessen the affect the gesture had on his heart. Orton was leaning against his other side with his eyes no longer glassy from drink, but from tears. Roman unwound one of his arms from around Ambrose and pulled Orton into his side as Ambrose reached out to take Orton's hand.

Cena suddenly got up from his spot pulling Stardust with him and resettled himself on Roman's other side, while Dolph quickly followed pulling Sheamus with him as well before settling on Cena's far side. There were no words spoken, due to there being nothing to say. They all knew what was coming, and while so much had felt disconcerting as Roman tried to find his way in his new life, this as it was during the calm before the storm felt just right.

They stayed like that as the fire began to burn low, and one by one dropped off into an uneasy slumber. Roman, however, could not find sleep even as Cena, who had been fighting it for some time between his worry and his desire to watch Stardust, who hardly ever sat still, in his peaceful state as he slept in is arms, finally dropped off.

Roman understood exactly how he felt as he gently cradled Ambrose kissing his head as he slept, unwilling to miss a single moment. While Roman was sad and worried he was also angry; at the world and the gods.

It felt impossible to sort out, and while battle and blood was nothing new to him, love certainly was. It was something he had never fathomed he would be blessed with, even the love he felt for those he considered as brother was a blessing beyond what he had ever imagined, and in this moment in the darkest hours before the dawn he was determined to do what he must to protect them all.

While he simultaneously cursed and thanked the gods for his new family, he thought of Samoa for the first time since the fates had turned his world upside down. Roman kissed his beautiful glowing beacon of light as, though far from a coward, he began to calculate how he could convince his family to seek true freedom... together... leaving this world's death and destruction behind.


	9. True Freedom

As the sun set on the eve before they were to begin their march Roman found himself hidden in the shadows, kneeling at the final resting place of the boy who had taken a piece of him to the afterlife when he failed to save him. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks and he completely understood why men often claimed love made one soft, but Roman would not take his back for the entire world.

Roman's tears were not for the boy per say, though it still saddened him, but for those he loved that still drew breath. It was nearly impossible to fathom losing any of them as the loss of those in which he hardly knew weighed on him so heavily. It was why he had previously kept his distance from others. He had made a second resolution he intended to keep with his last breath as the sun rose on the morn after their merriment had been shattered: to protect those he loved at all costs.

Ambrose began to stir as the dawn faded into day and Roman pressed his lips the other man's head as though it was his promise. Ambrose offered a loving smile as he raised his head sleepily, but noticed Roman's blood shot eyes causing him to recollect the previous eve and it was quickly wiped away. Roman felt him tense, and began rubbing small circles on his back unsure of what else he could do, and though it took a moment it relaxed him a bit much to Roman's relief. He had been worried that with battle looming Ambrose would pull away.

Ambrose, instead, clung to him, putting all his fears and love in to his grip which made Roman's chest constrict. His plea for true freedom was on the tip of his tongue, but before he could speak the others began to stir as well. Roman watched as they all surfaced to consciousness and after a moment felt his heart break as their faces fell recalling the previous night's events.

"We will do what we must," Sheamus's deep voice rumbled after an extended moment of silence before he pushed to his feet.

His movement and words seemed to pull them all out of their thoughts as they all nodded in agreement; including Roman, though in this moment he was unsure exactly what it was he must do. Roman was nothing if not a man of his word and had fought and bled for lesser causes, yet he had never had so much to lose, and had never been so terrified.

Roman looked down at Ambrose who was still clinging to him, but had his eyes closed as though he was praying with everything he was, it farther broke his heart as a tear slid down Ambrose's cheek causing his own eyes to burn. Mere months ago Roman would not have so much as bat an eye at marching to war wholly unconcerned one way or the other, but that tear and just the thought of losing his beacon of light…

"The gods will see us through." Ambrose's whispered reassurance did little to quell his apprehension, and he dare not broach the subject just yet.

Ambrose held a faith with his gods Roman never possessed. While Ambrose had been given the short end of the stick, he believed it all served a purpose greater than he. Roman on the other hand was not raised as such, and frequently felt if there truly be gods they were cruel gods. He had been beginning to come into his faith since he was blessed, though some was for shear desperation, the latest blow had cause him to call it all into question once again.

"They have given me you," Ambrose continued quietly caressing Roman's cheek when he saw his words had no effect. "We must hold faith it has not all been in vain."

Roman could do nothing except nod with a weak smile as he slowly leaned forward as to give Ambrose time to pull away, but was grateful when though still a bit tense he allowed Roman to gently press his lips to his. Roman attempted to put what he knew not how to put into words into his gentle kiss. A tear slid down Roman's cheek. It was no more than what most would consider a peck, but it reminded Roman of what he truly stood to lose.

Ambrose pushed himself up as he gently pulled away as to press his forehead against Roman's, who was unable to stop another tear from falling.

"Never," and though Ambrose whispered Roman could not only hear the love in his voice, but he could feel it.

"Never," Roman whispered back with a tremor in his voice telling Ambrose he loved him too caressing his cheek tenderly.

Roman felt another tear slid down his cheek as Ambrose kissed him again gently before reluctantly pushing to his feet and holding a hand out to Roman. While they had been lost in their bubble of love and attempted reassurance the others had disappeared to give them their privacy and begin the weary work of preparing for war. Roman attempted to rein himself in as he let Ambrose tug him to his feet.

"Have faith," Ambrose implored before with a final reassuring squeeze he turned away to do what he thought he must leaving Roman to stare after him more torn than ever.

Ambrose's voice spoke of faith, but Roman saw in his eyes Ambrose was just as afraid as he. Roman's life had never been his own, and while it had yet to become his own, he knew he could make it his own, and this was their best chance. As he stood there staring after the love of his life, his only love, he prayed to the cruel gods to spare them from more pain, but especially the pain that would prove far worse than death, and to show him a way to see them all through.

The past three days had been spent preparing for the marrows march and battle that would be at its end. As the hour drew near tensions mounted and along with Roman's customary pre-battle jitters a wholly new panic took root. While the sun shone the situation seemed near impossible to bear as worry cause their tempers to quicken, and if not for having Ambrose in his arms the nights would have proven so as well.

Roman found himself forced to walk away on more than one occasion, and while he was just as guilty as the others his row with Ambrose this day caused him to seek sanctuary he had not required for over a month. It was not wholly on Ambrose, who Roman knew was simply lashing out due to worry, but he had been so angry in general he had snapped back.

Roman had hardly slept in his unwillingness to miss a single moment and had been helping Ambrose and Orton to collect medicinal herbs in the wood when he brought back what turned out to be deadly nightshade. His brain had been fuzzy due to lack of sleep and he had not paid proper attention to his instructions. Ambrose's reaction was over the top and Roman knew it was due to the love he had for him afraid he may accidentally poison himself or another, it did not stop Roman from yelling back.

It felt stupid and childish, but he had stomped away when he felt his eyes burn unsure of what to do with himself. Much like the day he had been left behind he wondered the woods, eventually ending up where he was now collapsing and letting his tears fall freely. He begged the gods and even the dead to show him the way, but all remained silent, and stubbornly he stayed as though he could force an answer.

Suddenly Roman felt his hair stand on end causing the tears that had nearly subsided to fall faster and an audible sob to escape him. Before Roman knew it he was in Ambrose's arms being rocked gently as he let it all go once again burying his head in the other man's chest soaking up the love and comfort.

He knew not how long they remained as such and he hadn't a care. As his tears began to subside he was aware of gentle kisses being pressed to his brow. He lifted his head to meet his beloved's eyes and saw he too had been crying, which made Roman pull himself together. Reaching up slowly Roman brushed away Ambrose's tears with the pad of his thumb and pressed a finger to his lips as he began to apologize.

"Never," Roman told him with quiet conviction causing Ambrose to relax and nod as he seemed to be unable to respond as more tears fell.

"The gods will see us through," Ambrose finally said quietly causing Roman to tense slightly.

He had yet to broach the subject of true freedom with tensions too high while the sun was awake, and unwilling to ruin the small bit of peace they had under the stars, but his opportunities were quickly disappearing.

"And if they do not?" Roman asked, though his voice was cautious and quiet he felt Ambrose tense immediately as his eyes shone with a fear Roman had become all too familiar with these past days.

"We must trust in them," Ambrose answered quietly but with a tremor in his voice. "There is no other choice."

"True freedom," Roman answered firmly though his nerves were on end.

"True freedom?" Ambrose seemed more confused rather than angry which Roman took as a good sign. "We are free."

"To die for a cause that is not our own," Roman insisted trying to keep the hope out of his voice. "We may no longer where shackles, but we are not free. We are permitted to live as long as we do as bid. Currently their bidding consists of marching on Rome and to battle which will most likely end in not only our deaths and those that we love but countless others."

"If it be the gods will," Ambrose said after a long moment as a tear slid down his cheek.

"And our will?" Roman questioned brushing it away.

It hurt his heart to see his beloved so torn, still he pleaded with his eyes, preferring him torn and breathing than dead and placated.

"It is honorable to find your end in battle," Ambrose answered sadly as more tears fell. "Surely better than by the crack of a whip…" Roman watched Ambrose continue to struggle as he had been. "It is what we are, Roman, it is all we know, and that is wholly their fault. I should wish to see the favor returned; balance returned it is natural order."

Roman gently brushed away more tears, knowing he dare not broach the subject of Ambrose's charge if he had any hopes.

"It is what others have made us," Roman kissed his brow though his heart was in his throat as he spoke. "It is time we choose for ourselves. It is time we end the circle, and leave the death and destruction of Rome behind."

"You would go without us?" Ambrose's voice was angry though Roman saw the depths of hurt in his eyes, and he knew he was asking if he would go regardless of his decision.

"Never," Roman replied sincerely. "I would not go absent my heart; you are my heart, Ambrose: only together… all of us."

Roman watched him process it all, and while he held very little hope to persuade him, he still held some hope. Ambrose's eyes darted back and forth as though to illustrate the warring of his thoughts while Roman remained silent, though pleaded with his eyes.

"I cannot," Ambrose's voice was quiet and sad, yet it held no finality, which allowed Roman to hold his hope. "It is… I cannot."

Ambrose looked at him pleading for Roman's understanding, while Roman did not agree, he did understand, and loved Ambrose no less. The shackles might have been shed but they were all still tethered to their past and while freedom sounded desirable it was still frightening, still Roman did not concede all hope, only this battle.

"I have said I would storm Pluto's very gates to remain by your side, and it is still so," Roman told him before kissing away a stray tear. "If those gates be the gates of Rome, which is mine own personal hell, so be it... You are my heart, Ambrose, whatever may befall us."

Ambrose looked more torn than Roman had ever previously seen him as more tears cascading down his cheeks, which was not his intent. He meant every word, and while he still held hope that he would see sense before it was too late, Roman would stay by his side and do whatever he must to protect him, protect them all, down to his last breath.

Roman continued to gently kiss away Ambrose's tears and was beyond relieved the other man had not tensed with his attempts to offer comfort. Roman pulled him into his arms pressing him as close as was possible when his own tears began to fall again, and his heart felt like it was breaking. As he rocked his love and kissed his head, he prayed to the cruel gods to see them through, or at least let him take his final breath before the others, though the results would be all the same for him.

War, bloodshed, pain, misery, shackles, hate, and despair, had been forced on them by the will of others, and as Roman clutched to his beloved for whom he would willingly endure all of that and more he was suddenly aware that love was the most powerful force... more powerful than all the rest combined... even in a world such as this. Ambrose was his heart and he would give it up for nothing, and fight for it til the bitter end.


	10. Chapter 10

War: it was the way of the world he had been born into. This world was nothing but an everlasting circle etched in the blood of both the wicked and the innocent alike. Ambrose knew this all too well. His first memory was of blood; warm, sticky, sweet, metallic blood: he had been covered in it. It had matted his hair, covered his face and his clothes, and seeped into every pore he possessed; just as it did now. So much blood, too much blood, so much death, too much death, and Ambrose could hardly breathe.

Ambrose's heart had broken when Roman had pled his case, but he could not let it go. It had been the key to his survival for so long, and while he was trying to let Roman make him something different, something better… still Roman understood, accepted it, accepted him as he foolishly held onto his vengeance.

Roman had told him he would storm Pluto's very gates to remain at his side, that he would not leave without his heart, that Ambrose was his heart, that he would never lose faith; never, and Ambrose had been foolish enough to let him… foolish enough… so, so, so fucking stupid.

Ambrose spent the eve before the march unable to find sleep as he gently cradled Roman in his arms for the first time since his fever began to recede. Roman, who Ambrose knew had not been sleeping fought against it, because he did not want to miss a moment of what little peace they had left, but exhaustion won out. Ambrose watched the dying fire listening to the deep even breathing of his family slumbering around him wonder which of them would still be able to do so at the end of their dark journey.

Ambrose had never been so terrified in his life, and while bloodshed and battle had always been a part of his life, as he looked down at the man he loved he tried to imagine another way; a better way. Roman had turned his whole world upside down forcing him to call into question what had allowed his survival up to that point. Ambrose dared not dream of another way. He had been born in blood, and blood was to be his path… yet perhaps…

As the sun fully awoke for the day he was still as torn as ever and as the others stirred he watched fear take up residence in their eyes before it was quickly replaced with determination. They were all men of war and battle and bloodshed; it was their way, the only way they knew. It was the path set before them by the gods, and they would do what they must; it broke Ambrose's heart...true freedom…

Roman had stirred and Ambrose had fought tears as he looked into his eyes knowing this journey could be their end, but he held faith with his gods. He had to have faith, for if it was all for naught and there was no point… no reason for any of it… he just offered a weak watery smile, pressed his lips to Roman's and held him tight as he prayed with everything he was…never.

The aura as they marched was so thick it seemed to carry actual physical weight. Ambrose felt as though he was bowing under its weight, it was making it difficult to draw breath and his legs seemed to get heavier with every step he took, it was exhausting. Roman, Orton, Cena, Sheamus, Dolph, and Stardust seemed to feel it too as they all stayed close to one another, though they did not speak, there was still nothing to say… this was the world they'd been born into… this was the gods will… and they would do what they must… true freedom…never…

Ambrose repeated his mantra with every weary step as he warred with himself. Roman never left his side, just as he promised, and offered what comfort he could or what comfort Ambrose would allow. Ambrose went from about to be making his own plea for true freedom to being convinced Roman was not just a test from the gods but a curse for his previous weaknesses... true freedom… never…

King Alaric I had been attacked as he waited to set terms and barely escaping with his life had ordered troops to begin movement through with negotiating with the treacherous Romans. Word had arrived there was little food to be had, and though they had stopped all trade in and out of the city so as to force their hand things were desperate on both sides of the walls.

Four days and nights on end they marched with little rest and Ambrose's mind was more exhausted than his body as they neared the gates of Pluto as Roman named them. In hindsight they should have been expecting such a thing to occur. The previous raid should have been warning enough, yet now that orders had been given, and they had a common goal… they never saw it coming…

With more leagues behind them than in front till they reach the gates of the awful Eternal City Chief halted their march. Though they all wished to collapse where they stood they were all too aware there were things that needed doing and quickly set to their tasks so as to be sooner done. Ambrose was not wholly sure where they were or how far there was to travel and found as he finally collapsed near the fire and his family he did not really care.

For the first day's march Ambrose had begun to keep his distance, though it would not change a thing if the blow he feared was struck, it was simply his habit to seek distance in such times. With the exception of Orton, no one ever pushed him nor seemed to care. That first night, though Ambrose had been icy towards them all, his family settled around him none the less. He was so very grateful and even more terrified all at once.

Roman who was always very mindful of his moods and aversion to physical contact reached out and pulled him into his arms as though he would never let go. It made Ambrose's eyes burn, and while he tensed at first he quickly relaxed knowing Roman would never harm him as he settled himself against him soaking up his love and comfort… true freedom…never…

The fire was burning low as they sat as such in silence though near enough to draw comfort from one another and Ambrose was reveling in the feel of Roman's arms holding him tight and his sporadic gentle kisses as they began to drop off one by one… suddenly Stardust hissed leaping to his feet as he scooped up his sword shouting.

It was as though it all moved in slow motion, but much too fast all at once. Ambrose's instincts kicked in and he was immediately on his feet as well along with the rest of his brothers, and he thanked the gods they all possessed more skill than average as the clang of metal on metal and shouting rang throughout their hasty camp.

The moon and stars emitted little light, and the few fires they had been allowed to build had already burned low, though apparently it was too many either way. Ambrose relied on all of his senses as he tried to drive the Raider's away. The thought it was possibly the remnants of the first band crossed his mind, but he was soon aware they numbered far too many for that to be true.

Roman had been at his back just as he had the night he had been nicked, the night that changed everything, but a cry Ambrose was sure was Stardust was followed by one he knew was Orton had them both moving in opposite directions. It was as though their attackers were multiplying, and it was all Ambrose could do to get to Orton who had a gash across his cheek and one across his left shoulder much like Roman's.

The fighting was fierce and last far longer than the previous raid, and while Ambrose hardly felt it he was aware he too had been wounded. The element of surprise and what seemed to be numbers had afforded the Raider's the advantage, yet they seemed to tire much quicker as he and Orton pushed forward attempting to scatter them to the four winds. Though he was unsure how long they fought it seemed to last and eternity before the final attackers fled before them.

As both Ambrose and Orton not only struggled to catch their breath, but stay on their feet, Ambrose noticed the clanging and shouting could barely be heard before Orton collapsed into him and everything else faded into the background in his panic. There was so much blood on both of them that Ambrose had to peel away most of his clothing to actually find the wound. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw that while it was possible there would be permanent damage Orton would live to see another day, though that small bit of relief did little to quell his rising panic for the others.

It was difficult getting him to his feet in their collective exhausted states, yet as always they managed once Ambrose had done what he could for him until they got back to camp. Orton looked as panicked as Ambrose felt though ever the true brother tried to sooth him, yet Ambrose could not find it in him to respond or speak the unthinkable aloud as they plodded along as fast as they might with hearts racing.

Ambrose's mind raced as well, sorting through every horrid scenario he could imagine. He was certain he had heard Stardust cry out, but it could have been another, and once he began to make his way to Orton he hadn't seen any of the others. Ambrose's heart was in his throat and he could hardly breath as he half carried Orton who did his best to quell his pain just as anxious to get back as he… true freedom… never…

Ambrose prayed as he never had before, and made no attempts to stop the tears that leaked from the corner of his eyes. Just the thought was enough to freeze his blood, but he held a sliver of hope that kept him going… never… never… never…

The one word that meant the world to him, that represented his everything. Ambrose clung to Roman's promise as though it was his life's blood, because as far as he was concerned it was… there would be no reason, without Roman regardless of the will of the gods. Orton's mumbled reassurance barely penetrated his thoughts as he repeated it over, and over, and over again.

It felt like forever, but no time at all as they finally approached what had been their hasty camp as the sun rose on the horizon. Ambrose froze though he needed answers; he was far too terrified to receive them.

"Roman would not leave you even for the afterlife, brother," Orton tugged on him forcing his feet to move.

Ambrose heard him and began moving, but would hardly allow himself to believe his words… true freedom… never…all his fault…

Some of the others rushed forward at seeing them stumbling towards them, but they were not the ones Ambrose needed to see, to touch, to feel… true freedom… never… all his fault…

Orton was tugged from his arms though Ambrose did not let go until Orton had shouted at him, and still he barely heard him as he scanned the faces of those on their feet unable to even lower his gaze, just the thought made him nauseous. The same men that had taken Orton away tried to get him to the make shift infirmary but he refused, he had to keep searching, he could not… true freedom… never… all his fault…

Ambrose felt his tears cascading down his cheeks as his heart pounded in his ears, but he had no energy to stop them as he put all his efforts in to searching for the rest of his family. Many had tried to get him to treatment, but he shoved them away, he could not give up, he would not lose faith, never… never… never…

The longer he searched the worse his tears got as he looked all around him at the dead and the dying, listening to their screams and wailing. It was all so horrible and he could not breathe. Ambrose could not even find his voice to ask another if they had seen his brothers or his Roman too afraid for the answer. So much blood, too much blood, so much death, too much death… true freedom… never… all his fault… so, so, so fucking stupid…

"Ambrose!"

His heart stopped as his eyes scrunched shut causing his tears to fall faster... afraid to believe it was real.

"Ambrose!"

Ambrose turned though he felt as though everything was moving in slow motion again, so afraid, so terrified…

"Ambrose!" Roman's voice was laced with relief and concern as he sprinted towards him covered in blood with his own tears falling. "Thank the gods!"

Ambrose's relief was so overwhelming he could do nothing but let out a sob as Roman finally reached him he collapsed into his arms and held on for dear life. His everything, his always... never. Roman showered him in kisses as he squeezed him as tight as he dare, yet Ambrose could do nothing aside from cling and sob. Nothing had ever felt such as this; it was overwhelming, and almost too much, but would never be enough, still Ambrose would change it for nothing. Ambrose would risk it for nothing... true freedom... never ... so, so, so fucking stupid... it would never be his fault again... never...


	11. Chapter 11

It was nearing twilight and Roman was sure he had never felt so exhausted; physically or emotionally. He was also certain he had never been so relieved in all his existence, even as he sat there still covered in blood he thanked his cruel gods; his family made it through. Stardust and Orton were wounded, still they would live.

Roman was beyond grateful that King Alaric I and his men arrived what was just in time to help drive of the Raider's. He had been rather far into the wood when the last one fled, and though exhausted and out of breathe Roman hardly paused before he sprinted back towards camp. He came across Dolph, Sheamus, Stardust, and Cena first and without hesitation threw his arms around each of them in turn; so relieved, but still so terrified.

Roman did what he could for Stardust who had a rather large gash on his thigh before Cena carried him away towards the makeshift infirmary and he and his brother's split up to find Ambrose and Orton who none of them had seen since the start. His panic mounted with every passing moment, so much blood, too much blood, so much death, too much death, yet he did not lose hope, he could not lose faith.

It was as though he was in a daze as he wondered through what used to be their hasty camp, but had quickly turned into a gruesome battle field as was the way of their world. The sun was beginning to rise as Roman continued his search, he could not stop searching; he would never stop searching… never.

Roman had almost fallen to his knees is relief as the tears that had been silently leaking from the corners of his eyes began to fall in earnest; Ambrose. His feet carried him forward before he could call out, and while the other man was covered in blood, hardly recognizable, Roman knew it was him; Ambrose. No words could describe it; his everything, his forever, his always… never.

Roman finally found his voice as the dazed man walked in the opposite direction and he saw him freeze so he called to him again. When Ambrose turned and found his eyes, though Roman could see he carried the nicks and scrapes of fierce battle… he was alive, and in that moment nothing else matter.

The relief was hardly something he could describe, and he knew Ambrose felt it too by the way he collapsed in his arms sobbing unable to do much else. Roman kissed every inch of his face blood be damned, and let his tears fall freely as he squeezed him tight, everyone else be damned. Ambrose, his beacon of light; thank the cruel gods.

Their spirited embrace caused quite the commotion, but neither man cared and was grateful for it as the commotion enabled their brothers to find them readily. Ambrose had not loosened his grip one iota as they stood there clinging to one another until Sheamus's deep throaty laugh reached them along with the others audible relief.

Both he and Ambrose gave one final squeeze before they hurried to meet the rest of their family, even Stardust, who could only walk with support from Cena, and Orton who Roman could see had been injured as well. Roman had never lost faith he would find them, but he saw Ambrose had by the way he launched himself at Dolph and Sheamus as Roman carefully embraced the injured Orton planting kisses all over his face as well.

Orton swatted at him after a moment though he was quite pale Roman could see a blush creeping into his cheeks, and all Roman could do was laugh and pull him in closer as Ambrose carefully embraced Stardust then practically jumped into Cena's arms. They were men of war, and battle, and bloodshed, this was not their way… but they were family, for them… this was just right.

Ambrose pulled Orton into his arms one last time kissing him causing Orton to blush farther, before once again clinging to Roman and burying his face as his elation began to produce tears once again. Perhaps they never stopped falling Roman thought because he felt his own tears fall and saw it was the same for his brothers.

"We have dead that need burying and wounded that need tending," Roman said quietly after a moment, before gently pressing his lips to Ambrose's head.

Roman's words brought them back to the situation at hand, and while they had all made it through, many had not, and still more would not. They would do what they must. Helping those they could and comforting those they could not. It was the way of the world they had been born into.

Countless hours went by as they all set to task doing anything and everything they could. It was weary rewarding work, and while Roman's heart was once again heavy he found a small piece of joy at handing Orton a bulb of freshly peeled garlic.

Since Roman had been blessed he had understood appreciating the smaller blessings, which absolutely consisted of clamping his hand over Orton's mouth forcing him to swallow the awful garlic. Stardust, who delighted at Roman's misfortune concerning his treatment, however, slightly disappointed him as he calmly munched on his garlic bit by bit wholly unconcerned by everything.

Just as the stars began to twinkle Ambrose who had been with the medicus of the clan that fought beside them, tending to the gravely wounded entered the tent. He looked as worn as Roman felt as he checked on both Stardust and Orton before Roman found him in his arms. He held him close and squeezed him tight, but a few moments later Ambrose let go before saying good night to their brothers and tugging him out into what had become night.

Ambrose stopped suddenly and turned pressing his lips to Roman's. It was more than a peck, yet hesitant in such a way Roman was aware Ambrose was attempting to tell him what he wanted. Despite it all or perhaps due to it all Roman felt his heart begin to race as goose bumps broke out all over his body, though his blood seemed to be boiling as well.

Gently, despite Roman's sudden almost overwhelming desire, he pulled back to search Ambrose's eyes to make certain his matched his own. What he found nearly stopped his heart. Though there was a shadow of apprehension, Ambrose's eyes were ablaze causing Roman's blood to heat all the more.

Ambrose's smirk told Roman he saw his fire; yet even with all of that Roman could feel small traces of tension and apprehension. Not wholly familiar with such situations Roman decided to do what came natural to him. Ambrose frowned slightly as Roman gripped his hand and gently tugged him away from camp.

His heart was racing and his palms were sweating, though Ambrose's complete faith in him as he led him through the wood gave him confidence. When they reached the small river Roman had come across in his pursuit of the Raider's he paused at its edge. Carefully he pulled Ambrose into his chest caressing his cheek tenderly before gently pressing his lips to his.

Ambrose's immediate responsiveness made Roman's already hard cock twitch in anticipation, especially when he felt Ambrose's hardness press up against his as the other man's lips molded to his. Ambrose's fingers twisted in his hair pulling him closer, and Roman could not stop himself from moaning into Ambrose's mouth.

It was almost impossible to pull back and it was almost physically painful to do so, but he felt Ambrose's sudden tension as the other man's hands began to shake. Roman was gentle, still when he looked at Ambrose's face he saw sadness and embarrassment when he pulled back it broke his heart.

"Never," Roman told him gently with a few small kisses, which relaxed him a bit before Roman took a small step backward and pulled his blood stained tunic over his head.

Roman's nerves were on end mixing with a desire he would have thought was impossible, which made it difficult to meet Ambrose's eyes. Roman wanted to show him that though his pains were not exactly the same they were there none the less, and while he knew Ambrose had seen his scars before it was not in a situation such as this.

A deep breath steadied his nerves as once he was completely free of clothing he met the other man's eyes. His fears didn't seem as though they were completely unfounded as Ambrose's eyes were filled with unshed tears. Roman's shoulders slumped slightly, but when Ambrose saw his disappointment it seemed his apprehension was all but forgotten.

"Gorgeous," Ambrose whispered stepping towards him and planting a gentle kiss on his lips before taking a step back himself and shedding his own ruined clothing.

Roman felt his heart skip a beat with the sincerity in Ambrose's voice, still at the same time the sight of him undressing was making it so he had to keep himself from reaching out and touching him. Just as Roman had done Ambrose cautiously raised his eyes, and suddenly Roman knew exactly what Ambrose's tears had meant.

"Beautiful," Roman smiled letting Ambrose feel his sincerity as his own eyes watered at not only the physical beauty, which was compared to nothing he had ever laid eyes upon, but at the love and the trust that he was being given as Ambrose hid nothing from him.

Ambrose's answer was a shy, but satisfied smile and as he stepped forward, though Roman wanted almost nothing more than to be with him, he reached out his hand and gently tugged him towards the river wanting to show him he was cherished even more so.

The water was cool but refreshing on a summer's eve as Roman pulled them out so the water was just above their waists. The slight current had already begun to wash away the sticky nasty dried blood which was Roman's purpose for bringing him here. Roman pulled Ambrose closer giving him a gentle peck before he began carefully washing away the ways of their world as though it would wash away his hurts and help him move on from his pains.

Ambrose remained slightly tense at first, but Roman paid it no mind as he continued to cleanse his beloved planting sporadic gentle kisses on all his visible hurts and was relieved when Ambrose relaxed. The complete trust he held with him and the love he had for him heightened Roman's desire just as much if not more so than all the rest.

Once Ambrose was cleansed Roman took the sight in as a whole, his heart missed a beat; Ambrose was glowing. Roman's heart stopped completely as the other man reached out and began to wash away his pains as well, not only with water but gentle kisses. It was an intimacy more potent than any sexual act could ever be. It was almost too much, but would never be enough, and Roman felt it more so when it was all washed away and Ambrose stepped closer pressing his body to Roman's as he joined their lips.

There was no trace of tension as the tip of Ambrose's tongue traced his bottom lip causing Roman to gasp simultaneously granting entrance. Their lips and tongues synchronized movement in a loving slow dance as Ambrose tugged him closer as though he was attempting to make two one. Roman was in a cocoon of bliss he never though he would know in this life as his heart pounding and his body burned in the most amazing way possible.

The beautiful quiet sexy whimpers escaping Ambrose were making him almost painfully hard, still Roman was sure this was what his Elysian Fields would be. He cherished it just as he cherished his blessing. It was not hurried, but it was not hesitant either, it was perfect for them. When Ambrose gently pulled away affording him a few loving pecks before tugging him from the water Roman could hardly describe the feeling.

It was something he wanted with every fiber of he being, but so terrifying all at once, still he wanted it more than anything and felt neither more blessed nor loved than in that moment. The gentleness in which Ambrose kissed him as he lowered them to the ground was almost unfathomable and it was as though he was being afforded all the blessings he had been denied in this life all at once.

Ambrose kissed him deeply which he felt in his soul and while he was trying to be patient his hips bucked against him unbidden seeking delicious friction. Ambrose pulled back with a satisfied smirk before lowering his head once again and nipping as his ear before traveling down his neck and to his chest sucking one of his sensitive buds into his mouth. The moan that escaped him was a direct representation of his pleasure.

It was almost too much, but would never be enough as his hands gripped the back of Ambrose's head with his fingers tangled in his hair as his nips and kisses trailed down Roman's abs. A nip on the tender flesh of his inner thigh caused him to tense before it was gently kissed away and the other man's eyes found his own.

"Do not think, my love, just feel," Ambrose instructed softly and Roman felt every ounce of apprehension flee him as his beloved lowered his head once again.

Roman complied with his instructions and was rewarded with pleasures that knew no heights as without warning or much bravado Ambrose licked the precum from his sensitive slit before sucking his swollen head into his mouth. It was all Roman could do not to buck his hips let alone control his whimpers and moans as Ambrose worked his shaft with both mouth and hand. He felt the other man hollow his cheeks as he began sucking in earnest causing fire to coil in his belly.

"Not like this," Roman said gently pulling Ambrose up who released him with a loud pop before offering a tentative smile and a small nod.

Tenderly Roman rolled the other man on his back as he kissed away the returning tension before repeating the instructions that had been given to him.

"Do not think, my love, just feel."

Roman felt his beloved relax trusting in him once again as he gently nipped and suckled the tender flesh of his neck relishing in how sweet he tasted as well as the sexy whimpers that went straight to his cock. Roman took his time kissing down Ambrose's chest and his abs savoring every whimper of pleasure he drew from him and worshiping every inch.

Whimpers transformed into moans as he ran his tongue along the sensitive underside of his lover's shaft. As the tip of his tongue lapped the salty yet sweet precum he was rewarded with and impressive moan that caused him chills, still it was nothing compared to what he received when he finally took Ambrose's impressive length fully into his mouth.

The vibrations of his chuckle drew the sweetest sexiest noises he had never even imagined before he began to work his shaft in earnest. Strong fingers tangled in his hair pushing his head down as he kept a firm grip on Ambrose's hips. Roman licked and sucked receiving as much pleasure from it all as he could hear he was giving.

When Ambrose tugged on his hair before pulling him on top of him and capturing his mouth in a searing kiss like nothing Roman had ever experienced before it stole his breath as his heart hammered and his already throbbing cock twitched with every whimper and nip. When Ambrose finally pulled back just as breathless as he with question in his eyes, without hesitation and another searing kiss Roman rolled onto his back bringing Ambrose with him.

Roman nodded at his lover's tentative smile spreading his legs farther to let him know he was more than certain that this was what he wanted.

"Mind, body, and soul; I belong to you," Roman whispered with a gentle kiss at Ambrose's moment of hesitation.

"Never," Ambrose whispered back before kissing him again with a passion in which only solidified all of Roman's resolves.

Roman coated Ambrose's finger with saliva as it was pressed to his lips before Ambrose carefully began to press against his entrance. Discomfort hardly registered as Ambrose's lips hardly lost contact with his skin, and soon only pleasure registered though another finger was added while Ambrose gently fucked him with his fingers. New heights; was all Roman could think as his pleasure became audible.

It felt so good, too good and soon he was pulling Ambrose fully on top of him wrapping his legs around the other man's trim waist begging with his eyes unable to form words. With an almost cocky grin Ambrose complied and Roman forced himself not to tense as he felt the other man's cock begin to push against his tight entrance. Once again Ambrose's lips did not break contact as he slid in slowly.

It was indescribable and beyond blissful as his beloved filled him, yet absolutely mind blowing as he began to slowly move inside of him. It was intense and beautiful and felt so fucking good his toes curled with the mixture of pleasure and pain leaving him breathless. Just as with everything between them it was full of love and tenderness, but held an undertone of their coarseness, and soon Roman's hips were bucking to meet every thrust as Ambrose's cock hit the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him.

Once again it was almost too much and would never be enough. Roman was so close to cumming, he wanted to cum, yet never wanted it to end. It was a whole new blessing watching the man he loved become beautifully undone while inside him. There was no trace of tension or doubt or pain, just love and desire and the same unimaginable pleasure Roman was experiencing.

Ambrose reached between their sweaty bodies and fisted Roman's cock to let him know he was close before capturing his lips in a sloppy but no less cherished kiss. The other man stroked him in time with his thrusts and as the delicious fire coiled in his belly he cried out his lover's name before his seed burst forth. Ambrose soon followed and Roman was sure his beloved glowing figure had never looked more beautiful than in climax with his name tumbling from his lips.

He felt Ambrose slide out of him as he collapsed on top of him showering him in kisses as they attempted to regain their breath. Roman wrapped his arms around his love pulling him tight to his body with no plans to ever let go. It was the most amazing and beautiful thing he had ever experienced in his life, but even more so as Ambrose nuzzled into the crook of his neck planting gentle yet exhausted kisses on his collar bone.

It was more than he ever hoped for, more than he ever dreamed but would cherish it all forever; every moment and every second for as long as he drew breath and beyond. Roman felt tears seeping from the corner of his eyes as his kissed Ambrose's head whose breathing had begun to deepen and even out. He would give it up for nothing or no one and would fight for it until the bitter end.

"I love you," Roman whispered with a final gentle kiss tightening his arms around his beautiful glowing figure before drifting into a blissful peaceful slumber such as he had never known.


	12. Chapter 12

24 AUGUST 410 A.D.

The small fire danced as Ambrose held Roman in his arms kissing him sporadically trying to ease some of his tension as their family sat gathered around them. Though he did not wholly understand, he wished to understand. He wished more than almost anything to know what exactly plagued his love, yet he was afraid to question him. Ambrose was sure it had to do with his previous moniker along with the Roman Nobleman with the bi-colored hair and the awful scar that marred his pretty face.

His beloved's pain broke his heart and Roman's watery eyes made his own burn, but he knew not what to do for his hurts. Roman's past did not diminish his love for the other man one iota, yet he was unsure how to tell him, and unwilling to cause him to relive painful memories more so than he already seemed to be, so he simply kissed him and held him trying to show him as he made them both a silent promise to never lose faith; just as Roman had for him...

As the dawn broke that morn Ambrose awoke with a smile on his face as Roman pressed gentle kisses to his head to rouse him, though the hours of actual sleep had been short he had never felt more rested and wholly peaceful in all his existence. Roman was more to him than any blessing he ever heard told of and last night, though terrifying, had been more than he could have ever fathomed in his dizziest daydreams.

It was perfect, just as was his blessing, who was more than a blessing; Roman was his everything; his sun, his moon, his stars, his life's blood… his balance.

Roman's soft smile as Ambrose's eyes slid open told him he felt the same as his eyes shone with a love that made his heart miss a beat. Being inside of his beloved, receiving pleasure as well as giving had been something he had never experienced, something he had never fathomed, but with his beloved it was not so much giving or taking. The giving had equaled the receiving. It was something he could hardly wrap his head around or explain, yet the whole experience in total was... a gift; more than a gift.

Just the sight of Roman's beautiful bronze fully erect cock had Ambrose's mouth watering as his eyes raked over his lover's gorgeous body unabashed with desire burning in his belly. Roman's chuckle caused him to meet his eyes with flushed cheeks. The strength of his own desire still unnerved and embarrassed him somewhat.

Roman had given himself to Ambrose stating he possessed him mind, body, and soul. Ambrose wished to make it known it was no different on his part, still it was as though the return of the sun was accompanied with the return of Ambrose's shadow of tension and apprehension. Not for the first time Ambrose wished he was somehow different as his cheeks flushed more so at Roman's soft understanding smile when he recognized his struggle.

"Never," Roman told him with a gentle kiss that made his heart flutter as well as the tender caress of his cheek. "Patience, my love, it will come."

It was complete acceptance and understanding as Ambrose had never known, and while he wished he was somehow different he was beyond grateful that unfathomable love still shone in Roman's eyes. With gentle searing kiss his beloved; though it looked almost as though as it caused him physical pain to do so, pushed to his feet pulling Ambrose with him before leading him back to the cool river.

Roman carefully washed away the dirt that clung to him from sleeping on the ground along with the evidence of their love making then allowed Ambrose to do the same for him. I felt just as intimate as the previous eve, with gentle kisses and caresses, and while Ambrose wanted nothing more than to stay by the river in their new sanctuary together forever and never let go, they both knew others were in need.

With Roman's hand in his they made their way back through the wood as dawn morphed to full morn. As they drew near the heaviness of the ways of their world weighed on their hearts, though with the one another at their sides it seemed less so, causing Ambrose to remember why he had tugged Roman from the tent originally, before the twinkling start light, adrenaline, and relief of having his true love back gave him courage to ask for what had frightened him so.

"True freedom," Ambrose said suddenly tugging Roman to a halt at the edge of the wood.

Roman studied his face for a moment as though trying to determine if it was truly what Ambrose wished. After a long moment a smile crept across Roman's face as he saw it was so.

"True freedom," Roman replied firmly before suddenly scooping Ambrose into his arms and kissing him in such a way that Ambrose was torn in which direction he wished to go as Roman carefully set him on his feet.

Roman chuckled at his indecision and Ambrose could see and feel Roman too wanted to head back to the river, but before they could come to a decision Cena, though his knowing smile told them he was aware he had caught them at something, informed them the Chief wanted to see them. Sadly, but with a searing kiss Ambrose took as a promise Roman retook his hand and tugged him from the wood towards Chiefs tent.

Much to their surprise it was not the Chief that had greeted them at his tent, but King Alaric I, who Ambrose was familiar with due to serving under him before he ended up with his current clan. The old king seemed to have worn well beyond his years, but that had not surprised him as much as his reaction as they entered the tent. At seeing Roman the King's eyes widened in surprise.

It was then Ambrose learned his beloved's previous moniker and while surprised he understood as to why he did not give it. Gladiators though still slaves were treated better than other slaves, so were commonly seen as loyal to Rome, though Ambrose was certain what was seen as loyalty was simply what they did to survive.

Though it had been Ambrose who was sent for the King became more so interested in Roman who was suddenly extremely tense. He kept glancing at Ambrose apologetically as the King rambled on about the Roman Noblemen wanting to exchange their children as a means to end the siege. Ambrose's heart broke and he reached out intertwining his fingers with his loves to offer comfort and support.

Roman had been forced to not only risk his life but take life for entertainment purposes. Suddenly his aversions made all the more sense. As the King excitedly declared they along with Cena would accompany him to meet the Nobleman, though he had no intentions of taking their offer.

Ambrose promised himself they would leave and go wherever it was Roman wished as soon as may be with Stardust and Orton injured.

Ambrose tended to the wound on the King's arm, which was originally what they had been sent for. While the King had let Ambrose and Orton remain with their current clan after lending them when their Chief, a childhood friend of Alaric's, who was gravely wounded he was aware Ambrose was the most skilled healer he had ever encountered.

They were afforded no time to discuss the unsettling turn of events as the King informed them they were to depart within the hour and bid them to change out of their blood stained clothes. While Roman and Cena were to be adorned such as Gladiators, Ambrose was given robes of white as was often depicted in Roman accounts of Druids.

It was slightly ludicrous, but Ambrose was aware that while the King never planned to make the exchange he wanted to frighten the Noblemen into surrender. With two of Rome's most renowned Gladiators and a mysterious Druid at his side the Noblemen would be given more than pause. Still, Ambrose did not like it one bit.

Ambrose's stomach was in his throat the whole journey. While he was sure there would be no physical confrontation so many other things could go wrong. Roman managed to push away his own hurts at seeing Ambrose's unease and reached out intertwining their fingers as they marched unconcerned with the strange looks they received from some of the Kings men. A Druid and a Gladiator in full regalia clutching one anothers hands… must have been a sight.

Once they arrived at the meet they were bid to stand back so Ambrose was not privy to what had been discussed before they were called forward, which caused them all to roll their eyes a little at the theatrics, but with a final reassuring squeeze they complied.

"Aer," an incredulous voice spoke before anyone else could give reaction to their presence.

A young, and despite the awful scar that ran the length of the right side of his face, still very pretty young man pushed forward through the crowd with what Ambrose thought might be tears shinning in his big brown doe eyes. Roman's sudden tension beyond what Ambrose thought was possible at the name told Ambrose the man had been naming him and the pain that flashed in his eyes when the other man came into view made his chest ache.

That was their interaction in total before the young man quickly stopped himself before regaining composure though he could not hide his pain and neither could Roman. Ambrose felt a pang of jealousy for a moment, which was immediately replaced with concern as he watched his beloved become lost in painful memories and his beautiful eyes stayed on the young man's face.

Ambrose categorized this under that "so much could go wrong" as he somehow felt even more nauseous on the journey back. Roman gripped his hand as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded. King Alaric thought the meeting had gone quite well, but Ambrose did not agree, and would have done anything to take the pain unto himself that his beloved was so clearly feeling.

Ambrose could tell Roman did not want to, or more likely could not put into words as to what he was feeling. Cena was watching Roman as closely as Ambrose as they shed their ridiculous garb in silence then made their way back to the infirmary to check on their brothers. Ambrose was unsurprised to find Sheamus and Dolph as well nor that they all noticed Roman's tension. It made them all tense and Ambrose's chest ache as they worked in silence unsure of what to say or do. It was unsettling enough that when the stars came out and they needed to rest Orton and Stardust came with them too.

Ambrose felt Roman's pains as if they were his own and wanted nothing more than to help him through it as he helped him through his, but he remained unsure how to broach the subject, so he settled on showing him he was loved beyond measure. Thankfully, though suddenly, Cena had taken the burden from his shoulders.

"Who is he Roman?"

"The son of a Praetor of Rome," Roman's voice held audible pain.

"Who is he to you?" Cena pushed with an edge in his voice that Ambrose had never heard and made him all the more angry and nervous.

"He… he was my companion," Roman's voice was hardly above a whisper due to his throat being clogged with tears, which was most likely why it took him a moment to answer.

"What did he do to you?" Ambrose demanded angrily feeling Roman's pain as though it were his own.

It was somehow worse than if it were his own. Ambrose's mind had been filled all day with thoughts of perhaps a long lost love, along with countless awful things the bi-color haired man could have done to his beloved.

"He saved my life," Roman answered after a moment as his tears actually began falling.

It was nothing close to what any of them had expected to hear which was shown in the silence that followed Roman's statement, still even with his surprised Ambrose held Roman closer and kissed away his tears as best he could, but was all too aware this was not a hurt he could kiss away.

A life debt was not something men such as they moved on from easily, and with the impending sack he finally knew what was plaguing his beloved.

"That is why he sought to purchase you," Cena broke the silence. "When he made his offer… it was ludicrous, and Dominus turned him away probably hoping to get more…I do not know..."

"Purchase me?" Roman questioned sitting up fully as his tears fell faster looking even more torn.

"Aye," Cena said sadly. "The eve prior to our departure, he came in the dead of night offering what I was sure was all that he had for you… I remember the awful scar…"

"As do I," Roman said after a moment before suddenly pushing to his feet and beginning to pace. "I… I… I shall never forget it."

Ambrose's heart broke for his pains, while he did not agree at owing someone who stole your life any sort of debt, he understood. Ambrose too pushed his feet wanting to show Roman the same understanding he had shown him. The pain and tears in Roman's eyes broke his heart as he enfolded him in his arms showing he understood and he loved him none the less.

Roman had followed him to the near ruin of them all keeping his promise… never. Ambrose was a hard man, a strange man, and a very stubborn man. Roman knew him better than he knew himself at times, and was aware that Ambrose would have to find it in himself to break the invisible shackles that tethered him to his past. While Ambrose had done just that and was ready for true freedom, he also knew his beloved would not find true freedom until he too shed his invisible shackles.

"Never," Ambrose whispered letting Roman know he was with him regardless. "Pluto's very gates my love."

Roman's eyes closed and Ambrose could feel his relief, his fear, his frustrations, he could feel the warring with in him as though it was him warring with himself all over again. Ambrose wanted Roman to know that he was with him to whatever end.

"Mind, body, and soul, I belong to you," Roman whispered back when his eyes opened once again.

Ambrose felt his own tears begin to fall at the amazing amount of love that shone in Roman's eyes as he gazed down at him, as well as the pain he knew he was going through.

"And I you," Ambrose responded before kissing him gently.

The others had remained quiet, but with one last squeeze Roman looked around at them and saw his pain effected them as well.

"I do not..."

"Have a choice," Orton pushed awkwardly to his feet. "I do not agree, just so it is known, I believe you owe him nothing, but you have no choice in the matter as far as I am concerned. Pluto's very gates, brother."

The others including Stardust with help from Cena followed suite with firm nods to let Roman know they were with him as well. Roman's tears fell faster and Ambrose watched him struggle, but knew it had to be his choice if he truly wanted Roman to find true freedom. It broke his heart and he realized what Roman must have gone through to make him see sense, and while he did not know the circumstances he would be by Roman's side none the less.

Roman's indecision shone in his eyes as he gazed back at Ambrose. What he could lose, what he would have to live with if he never tried, so much pain and doubt... but their hand was forced when suddenly Stardust whose strange eyes seemed to afford him some sort of keen night vision hissed causing them all to tense and take up arms.

"The Solarian Gate has been opened!"

A man came barreling into camp heading for the Chief's tent likely to inform King Alaric I of this sudden seemingly fortunate turn of events.

"The Solarian Gate has been opened!"

Their tension increased tenfold as they were aware a hasty decision was in needed. Ambrose gazed into Roman's eyes and could see his indecision was for the love held for him and their family, and that this was something he needed to do. Though, he swore he never hated anyone more than the bi-color haired man than in that moment, he loved Roman more than anything, and would do the same for any one of his brothers.

"I love you," Ambrose told him. "Mind, body, and soul, I belong to you. To Pluto's very gates, to whatever end. I love you, whatever may befall us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Companion is what they called the house slaves that were sort of assigned to like be their playmates... it's not in a biblical sense lol. Sorry for the confusion... Also the flashback confusion...let me know lol... hopefully this helps! Thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aer is Roman incase you missed it before :-) This ones a bit diff and Seth's POV... I hope you like it!

24 August 410 A.D.

(Just before the gates are opened)

Seth tugged his hood down around the right side of his face as was habit since the awful night that had left not only his face but his back permanently marred, as he hurried through the disgusting streets of the gods-forsaken city in which he was sure he would never return. He was only here now due to the death bed confession letter his mother had sent him, and still he was too late, or so he thought...

_Ten long years since he had been banished to Greece, and in those long years not a day had gone by where he did not think of his companion; his brother. Even at a young age Seth knew his father was not exactly a good man, he often hit anyone around him when he was in a rage, including Seth, but that night he learned just how awful he truly was when he almost killed both him and his brother. Seth remembered little of what occurred, and knew not what had occurred before he arrived._

_Seth remembered a pained cry had awoken him, and soon another sent him sprinting down the hall as he recognized it as Aer, though he was surprised to find he was not in their room. His heart had been in his throat terrified for his companion, unable to imagine what had caused him to make such heart wrenching sounds. He had seen Aer punish before, sometimes even for things Seth had done. It was the way of their world, or so he was told, yet he never heard anything such as this._

_Seth needn't imagine much longer as he skidded to a halt in the door way and saw his father and another man who were swaying unsteady from too much drink and the crack of a whip was accompanied by another cry. Seth froze somewhere between not believing what he was seeing as Aer's back and face were covered in blood and sick to his stomach, but another cry got him moving without farther hesitation._

_He rushed forward just as the whip cracked, and he remembered little of the pain; mostly the blood. It was hot and wet as it cascaded down his face. Neither his scream nor the sight of his blood stopped his father as the whip came down again, yet this time on his back as he turned to shield Aer who though he could hear was still conscious, it was only just barely._

_Seth remembered not much after that; only pain and his mother's screams. He remembered clinging to Aer afraid he was gone, terrified beyond anything he had ever known. Seth tried to rouse him, and he remembered his eyes were all but swollen shut. He sobbed for his brother to open his eyes though his own vision was blackening around the edges. Seth then remembered the scent of strong wine as he was yanked up by his hair then nothing…_

_When he next opened his eyes his mother was sobbing at his side as the only medicus they could find at that time of night clumsily tried to tend to his lacerated flesh. Seth had immediately called for Aer, and even tried to get off the table to go to him, but his mother and the medicus held him down as they promised him Aer was alive. Seth had not cared for their words wanting to see for himself, wanting to hold onto him, but was soon sleeping again as a potion was poured down his throat._

_It went on like that for days until Seth was strong enough, though his movement tore the recently repaired skin, to stumble out of his room. He fought the pain and the tears as he unsteadily made his way down the hall. His mother found him and scolded him, but he would not hear it. Seth continued to fight against her and her handmaid that had come to help get him back in bed, until he finally once again lost consciousness._

_The next time he awoke his mother was by his side and promising him Aer was alive before he could even speak, but had been sold; still she swore he was safe. Seth's mother was not a bad person, just afraid, and Seth knew that she loved him, though this was the only time he remembered her showing it, so he had no reason to doubt her. He promised himself as soon as he was able he would go find his brother and bring him home again._

_A twelve year old's dream, was what that promise amounted to. Not a week later before he was even on his feet and lucky he still had vision in his right eye he was banished to Greece where he stayed until 10 months ago when he received his mother's letter. His brother, who he thought was safe for all these years and missed terribly, had been sold to fight to the death for entertainment purposes. Seth had literally been sick._

_Seth had long stopped calling Rome his home and considered himself more Greek than anything, but when his mother had stated in her letter what had become of his beloved brother, he left his home and came back to the place of his nightmares. Seth had not made it in time to say good bye to his mother, though he was unsure that was a bad thing._

_For years she had written to him assuring him Aer was safe, maybe it was his own fault for burying his head in books and training to forget, instead of making good on his promise. Still, when he knew he came, though it may have still not been enough._

_He was so very afraid, but he pushed it away and the first thing he did when he got off the boat was go to the man he knew had his brother and offered him half of what he had knowing the man would turn him away wanting more as soon as he learned his name._

_Seth was willing to give him not only everything he had, but everything his dying father had as well. Stupid most would say, but as a child though his mother loved him she had never shown him love and his father... well, Seth only had Aer, and he loved him as the brother he saw him as. Though at 12 he was a spoiled child and acted as such. The distant relatives on his mother's side that had taken him in had never beaten him unfairly and gave him the education he sought, before he served a short stint in the Greek Army as a medicus, but they were still not his family._

_As far as Seth was concerned he only ever had a brother; a brother he left to fight and die on the sands of the arena. Though he had no idea it still broke his heart, so yes, Seth would pay whatever was required to get his only family back, even if that only family despised him at least Aer would finally be safe._

_When he went back he was informed that the Dominus had taken Aer and another to the country and would be back in a month's time. Seth had been prepared to travel to make his offer or just take him back if need be, but then he got word the Barbarians had slaughtered everyone; including his Aer. Seth had been beyond devastated and knew it was all his fault. He had let his fears keep him from returning._

_Then today against all odds he was there, even after 10 years as strong and handsome as ever; his brother: his Aer._

_Seth had lost himself for a moment in his shock and elation, and fought to rein himself in though he knew his pain was visible. His chest ached and he longed to run to him. Seth could only see some of the damage the arena and hard years had done, but still in that moment he made another promise he would do what he must._

_Seth had only been there to offer himself in exchange not caring much about anything after his what he thought was his final blow, but even as he accepted his fate and cursed the cruel gods hope was afforded him; Aer his brother, his only family._

Things in the city were desperate; there was little food to be had as King Alaric's men sought to force their hand by starving them out. Crime had risen tenfold and many had turned to cannibalism. Countless bodies lie in the streets, men, women, and children. They would all die soon die regardless. It would not be pleasant, though nothing in this world was pleasant as far as Seth knew, but their remained little choice.

Seth had become somewhat cold and hard after the evening he was marred and the only person who ever seemed to care for him was taken from him, which was probably why those that had taken him in had never warmed to him, or he had never warmed to them. Either way Seth was no longer that little boys with his head in clouds; he knew the cost of love and life was paid in blood. It was the way of their world.

It was rumored 10,000 Huns were on the march from the north, and Seth was unwilling to chance it. Even if the Huns managed to fight of the Visigoths Seth knew the empire had been waning even from Greece and the result would likely be the same. From what he could see they would be too late anyway, and then his brother would be in peril once again before the city was sacked either way; he was resigned to do what he must.

He hid away his household, though many were loathed to be left behind, before he set out with sword in hand should his command not be well received. Though, Seth was well aware this could be his end he smiled as he thought of his brother, whom he always loved and looked up to.

Aer had always been the one to listen to him, even if it was none sense about magical beings of light. He had always been the one that Seth had gone to when he scraped his knee, or let him crawl into bed with him and held him when he had a bad dream. Aer had always been the one to calm his when he got frightened or too excited, and though Seth now knew it was because he had to; it didn't change how Seth felt about him.

Seth loved him more than anything and soon he hoped he would see his brother once again; though he was unsure if Aer would simply kill him; which Seth felt was deserved after leaving him for so long in that hell hole, Seth still smiled.

What happened next would be debated for near two thousand years. Sword in hand and a smile on his lips more than prepared to accept whatever fate brought him; Seth ordered the opening of the Salarian Gate.


	14. Chapter 14

Just as Roman had become certain he could never be more blessed; that no one had ever been so blessed as he, the fates sought to bestow upon him a new blessing wholly unlooked for, yet no less cherished. While there was undoubtedly numerous kinks to work out, in this moment Roman felt whole for the first time in his recently not so miserable life as his past and his present melded together to form a future he never thought could ever exist.

Ambrose; his beautiful beacon of light, his heart, his everything, his never, was peacefully slumbering with his head resting on Roman's right shoulder pulled tight against his side, while Seth, his baby brother, the most painful, yet the only light in his horrible past was curled up against his left side sleeping as well, though quiet whimpers still escaped him every so often.

Roman gently pressed his lips to both their heads as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, exhausted, but not daring to even think about drifting, as though if he dared when he awoke his beautiful glowing figure would somehow prove nothing more than a fever dream, and his marred yet no less pretty baby brother would once again be dead all because of him.

_Roman had no idea what to do with himself. Simply hearing his first moniker had been enough to stop his heart, but to hear it spoken as such; with so much pain, so much relief, so much devastation, so much longing: it could have only been him, yet that was impossible, it could not be. Then he came into view; just as pretty as ever as though the damage he remembered so well made no difference with tears shining in his big brown doe eyes; his baby brother: alive._

_It could have been 50 years instead of 10, still he would know him; Seth. Roman's whole world came crashing down around him as his heart shattered. Everything he pushed away, everything he forced himself to forget, hit him all at once; and Roman could barely breathe._

_Ambrose's hand in his own had been the only thing keeping him grounded as they made their way back to camp. Roman felt so lost, so torn, so broken. He knew they were worried, but he could hardly explain his thoughts or emotions, because it was impossible, and it had been something he had burried, just as he thought Seth had been._

_Roman hardly remembered the beating or why it had been given in the first place. His Dominus had pulled him from bed and still to this day the scent of potent wine made him gag. There was blood and pain, but it hardly registered as Roman faded. He wanted to fade, yet just as he began to let go and give into the darkness he heard Seth's cries. His eyes were swollen shut still he tried to look at him, tried to comfort him, yet he could not._

_Roman remembered no more until he woke up days later in the salves quarters and not in their room. He had tried to go to Seth, he needed to hold him, because Seth got so worked up, he would be so worried, but he was forced to drink potion that sent him back to his nightmares._

_The next time he awoke, which was probably his second most painful memory he had long tucked away until now, it was dark and Roman fought the pain and the tears and forced himself to keep going until he was by Seth's side. Roman had let his tears fall as he clutched Seth's hand unable to do much else as he stared at his damaged face that had always been so pretty even as a chubby toddler._

_Everyone, his whole life, had always told him he was just a slave, less than nothing, no one wanted him, no one loved him, whether it was with words or beatings; everyone but Seth. Roman, though he would never have dared spoken it aloud had always thought of his bratty companion as his baby brother, and tried to protect him at every turn._

_Seth, though probably because they were still very young, neither thought of nor treated Roman as just a slave, though Roman knew no one could love him, it was enough for him. Roman had never begrudged the beatings that should have been Seth's. Seth got beat enough without cause, and it often took hours to calm him again. Being scolded or paddled himself was far better than that, and even then Seth often climbed into his bed with tears for Roman's pains._

_Roman worn and tired had fallen asleep at Seth's side and while he counted himself lucky it was his Domina that found him, or he likely would not have lived through the next beating, still, before the day was out Roman had been sold and sent to start his apprenticeship of blood. Roman fully understood he had been sold and it was no longer his home, but still he had returned._

_Not for good, he was a slave, he knew his place, but in his worry; he had to go back. He had not even made it to the front door, before he was set upon by his previous Domina as she swatted at him and shoved him away from the house. Roman knew he was not welcome, but he needed to see him and make sure for himself._

_That was by far his worst memory. Seth's mother who had never shown Seth any difference, with tears in her eyes, devastated, had told Roman Seth was gone and it was his entire fault…_

_Roman had gone back to the Ludus in a daze taken his beating without so much as flinching and threw his anger and his pain into his training, never looking back, forgetting it all, because it hurt too fucking much. Roman was a slave this was his place it was the way of their world, and he had caused the death of the only person who had ever shown him any difference. He had managed to block all of it out and distance himself from everyone and everything for years; until Ambrose._

_Roman had not even thought about Seth for years after he finally managed to shove it all away, though he remembered thinking of him when he learned Ambrose was a Druid, until he pushed it away again, and more recently he had often had fleeting thoughts of him. Maybe, it was the gods' way of preparing him for this, though not very well._

_Roman had hardly been able to answer Cena's question, he had almost told them Seth was his baby brother, his dead baby brother all because of him, but he could not, he did not know how. Again his beacon of light had offered him a choice, which did not feel like much of a choice, it was impossible knowing he was putting those he loved in danger; his family, but Seth… he could not leave him. Everything he had ignored had come back full force and more._

_"I love you," Ambrose told him. "Mind, body, and soul, I belong to you. To Pluto's very gates, to whatever end. I love you, whatever may befall us."_

_Roman had kissed Ambrose with everything he had and held him tight for a brief moment, so much more than a blessing, unable to even put into words how much he and this meant to him, he had quickly kissed them all, still he hesitated before Ambrose was tugging him towards the awful city with their brothers in tow._

_They reached the Salarian Gate and though they entered without pause it was enough to increase Roman's anxieties tenfold. Ambrose reached out with his non sword hand and gave Roman a firm reassuring squeeze and they jogged down the horrid streets which had already begun to run red with the blood of its own people as fires blazed around them with pained cries and terrified shouts ringing in their ears. Roman did not even have to think about the way as he led the path to the place of his darkest nightmares._

_They had nearly been too late as another clan had reached Roman's own personal hell before them. His heart stopped once again as he caught sight of Seth with sword raised as he attempted to shield the rest of his household from the invaders with blood cascading down his face much like Roman remembered. It had enraged him._

_"I afford you fair warning," Roman growled as his brothers clamored in behind him. "This is one is mine, and nothing shall keep me from repaying my debt."_

_The other men looked at him for a moment as though they sought to protest, yet at seeing not only Roman's determination but that of his brothers lowered their swords._

_"Pay him in kind then," the man who seemed to be their leader smirked at him before they stepped around them giving a wide berth especially as Stardust hissed before they made their hasty exit._

_Roman did not take his eyes off of them until he was sure they were gone. When he turned back to face Seth his heart plummeted._

_Seth stood glaring with sword poised and eyes harder than Roman ever thought possible. His heart broke wondering what could have caused his baby brother, who always walked around with his head in the clouds to become something akin to himself. Then his heart broke farther as he remembered what it was like and how it would have ruined him without his Aer._

_"It is my blood you seek to spill," Seth growled at him menacingly, though Roman could feel the depths of his hurt. "I shall not offer resistance, it is yours to spill, yet do not harm them, they have are not responsible for your pains."_

_Roman could hardly believe his words and his eyes burned as the other man lowered his sword to show them he spoke true._

_"Aer," Trish, one who had been Seth's wet nurse growled. "He is not responsible for your hurts; he was no more than a babe, for not one moment think that there will be no fight, whether Seth wills it or not."_

_Roman's jaw slackened along with his grip and his sword clattered to the marble floor as he felt a tear fall when she stepped forward placing herself between them and his baby brother followed by the others. They thought he would harm him? He felt the surprise of his family behind them, but they did not know his baby brother, who was so soft and sweet and gentle, and while Roman did not know the hard man before him, he still could never…_

_"I would not…" Roman could not hide his own pain. "I could not… I would not…"_

_If it all wasn't already almost more than he could take the disbelief that swept over Seth's face hurt him more than he could ever imagine. Seth had thought he had come to take his life…_

_"He knew not where you were sent as he was sent away himself," Trish continued most likely because the others had not lowered their blades as of yet. "He came when he knew and sought to purchase your freedom."_

_"Gone…" Roman's voice was hardly a whisper as his mind struggled realizing he had been wrong all these years and his baby brother had braved gods know what all on his own. "I thought… they told me you… I thought you had not made it. I tried to… I came back…"_

_"You came back?"_

_Seth's beautiful expressive eyes filled with tears and Roman felt his heart miss a beat as he caught a glimpse of the little boy he had loved so. His tears fell freely as he strode forward driven by relief, guilt, love and the decade of heart ache he had ignored. Roman felt Seth stiffen as he enveloped him in his arms, but did not; would not let go, and eventually Seth gave in and Roman heard him begin to sob._

_It was a ghost of his past, yet not a ghost, and Roman kissed his face unsure how else to express everything inside of him._

_"I was coming for you," Seth told him after a moment. "Then word came… none left alive… if I had known… I swear I would have never…"_

_Seth's tears renewed as Roman pulled him back into his chest, it was impossible, it was something he could never have fathomed, yet it was here; he was here and in his arms._

_"Roman," Cena snapped pulling Roman back to present and causing Seth to tense. "We have company."_

_Roman pushed Seth behind as he moved to scoop up his blade. Seth barked out orders behind him reclaiming his own telling the others to go back into hiding until it was safe. His orders were met with protests, but a final snapped command had them all moving. Roman had to shake off his surprise as he moved forward with his brothers to meet their "company"._

_This group could not be swayed so easily and it came to blows. Roman found himself fighting beside both his love and his family and the baby brother he long thought dead. It was a short skirmish, though he had never been so stressed and knew they had to leave the city at once as the opposing group scampered off dragging their dead and wounded behind them._

_"We must go," Orton said as Cena and Sheamus barred the door with what they could find. "This is just the beginning…"_

_Ambrose's eyes flashed to Roman's with question as to leave it up to him, letting him know he was still with him whatever his decision. Roman offered his answer in a searing kiss hoping to wipe away the uncertainty he saw in his love's beautiful blue eyes. Seth was his baby brother and would always be a part of him, yet Ambrose still remained his heart._

_"Mind, body, and soul, I belong to you; I love you," Roman told him firmly, Ambrose's answer was cut off by Seth's angry growl._

_"You will go nowhere," Seth snapped causing both Roman and Ambrose's heads to snap around in surprise, especially as he stomped up to Orton. "You should not have even come here! What is your malfunction, your binding is filthy!"_

_Despite themselves and the situation at hand both men chuckled in disbelief as Seth reached out and Orton took a hasty step backwards._

_"Do not be dense!" Seth snapped as Orton stepped away when Seth reached out again. "It needs changing!"_

_Orton looked to them for help, but they only turned back to each other with wide eyes. Seth seemed not to notice all eyes on him as he glared at Orton. Small smiles graced everyone's lips as Orton's eyes darted around looking slightly frightened at Seth's determination and anger._

_It was almost as though it was déjà vu yet this time from the outside looking in, and though Roman was beginning to learn to expect the unexpected he still shook his head in disbelief. After a momentary intense stare off before Orton saw he would receive no aid he shot them all a parting glare as Seth tugged him away, but not before commanding Stardust to follow him too, who did so though with a limp, smiling and clapping none the less._

_Despite the momentary amusement and whirlwind feeling of it all, Roman forced himself to push that all aside and help the others sure up the defenses as they might for now, though still feeling they needed to leave, while Ambrose went to check on Orton and Stardust though seemed unconcerned as to whether Seth actually knew what he was doing._

_Roman figured he should not worry either, though when Stardust came limping down the hallway grinning from ear to ear Roman felt nervous having not told them the whole story. He realized he needn't worry as he made his way down the hall to find Ambrose in the shadows gazing into, if he recalled correctly, the sun room fondly._

_Roman crept up behind him quietly before snaking his arms around his waist and pulling him into his chest and kissing his head. Ambrose did nothing but lean back into him before tilting his head and pressing his lips to his then turned back to watch Seth and Orton. Roman had a feeling his presence had already been known before the other man felt his touch._

_"You know what it is you are doing?" Orton grumbled as Seth laid out fresh bandages, but did not answer with more than a glare._

_Orton tensed as Seth's hand gently untied his binding, which wasn't so much dirty as it was bloody, before a look Roman very well knew flitted across his face. It was fascinating to watch as he was sure he was seeing very much what Orton had seen, and chuckled silently as both their brothers remained oblivious to it just as they had. Suddenly Seth's hand froze as the binding was removed and Orton's scars were revealed._

_"They are… how did they come to mend so well... it is amazing?" Seth gently ran his fingertips over Orton's scars wearing a look of longing and awe._

_Orton tensed and jerked away from him looking as though he had been slapped despite Seth's gentleness causing Seth to snatch his hand back._

_"You mistake my meaning," Seth said quickly averting his eyes nervously as Orton glared at him. "It is just… mine did not heal so well… and I…"_

_Seth trailed off and busied himself with bandages and salve as Orton's face softened considerably while he gazed at the damaged part of Seth's face._

_"Ambrose," Orton answered softly. "He is a healer, as well, a Druid… magic perhaps."_

_Seth's head whipped around and while Roman saw his companions disbelief mix with excitement, Orton mistook his actions._

_"He is a good man," Orton said firmly. "He is good to Roman, he loves Roman, and Roman loves him. You do not know him to dislike him so."_

_"I may not know him," Seth replied. "But I have love for him either way… he is Ae… Roman's heart is he not?"_

_"He is," Orton's voice was firm, and Seth's eyes flashed to meet his as though that was all that needed to be said._

_Roman's chest swelled with a warmth he thought was unfathomable as he watched them and felt Ambrose press his back into his chest, and though he had not the time to work out the sudden yet fortunate turn of events, he felt the need to make their presence known as Orton eyed Seth suspiciously._

_"We must depart soon," Roman told them from the doorway. "It will only get worse."_

_Orton nodded in agreement, but Seth kept his eyes averted in a way, though even after all these years, Roman knew meant he did not agree and would not comply._

_"Seth…"_

_"I cannot," Seth replied firmly, carefully tying off the binding he had been working on. "I must stay, there are going to be people in need, it is my doing, I will turn this place into an infirmary and do what I can, but when dawn breaks if you would take my household with you, to safety I will pay whatever it is you require."_

_Roman did not understand his words, but he would not leave him behind for any reason, not when he finally had him back._

_"We are healers as well," Ambrose replied when he felt Roman's tension as though they had no overheard Orton's words. "We will stay as well… though I do not speak for our brothers… nor Roman for that matter, though I know he will not go, so I will not go… tell us what you require."_

_It was intense moment as Seth stared between them seemingly torn. Roman knew he did not want them in danger, but could see they would not leave without him, yet felt it was his duty to stay._

_"Herbs from the garden, what little is left, clean linen shredded…" Seth came to his decision and bit his bottom lip as he thought. "Water which we do not have much of… it will have to come from the bath…"_

_Roman felt his heart miss more than one beat as he watched his baby brother take charge and soon saw why Ambrose, who usually saw what others could not, had not questioned his skill. His baby brother, though harder than he would have like, was now a man, though it was difficult to see with his eyes, he saw it in Ambrose small approving smile._

_They worked tirelessly through the rest of the night and much of the morn, taking shifts as they kept guard. Not all had been explained nor would it ever be most likely, because they had not all the answers themselves. Roman was proud yet still slightly tense as he watched Seth and Ambrose work together, though tentatively, and it seemed Stardust was the only one who openly and literally embraced Seth as of yet, still the place of his darkest nightmares had also become the birth place of impossible dreams._

_As mid day broke they woke Dolph and Sheamus so they could rest for a while and though Seth had ordered the household to remained hidden just in case many of them shirked his orders and were helping as well. As they retreated to what had been where the others had hidden as not to be caught unawares Seth trailed behind them at a distance, suddenly looking very much like the little boy that used to crawl in his bed in the darkest hours of the night._

_Ambrose felt his sudden tension and pulled them to a stop._

_"Never," Ambrose whispered with a gentle kiss before turning away._

_"Never," Roman replied grabbing a hold of his wrist to stop him._

_Roman's nerves were on end and he was beyond afraid, still he kept a firm grip on his heart as he offered a hand to his baby brother who had stopped when they had and looked wholly uncertain of himself, until with a tentative smile, yet a firm nod Ambrose let him know he accepted him as a blessing as well causing Roman's heart to sore all the more._

As Roman lay there feeling somehow... complete... he thanked the cruel gods for his blessings, all of them, every single one: including the new found knowledge, that he had always been loved.


	15. Chapter 15

Ambrose felt beyond exhausted as he leaned against the marble wall wiping the sweat from his brow. True to his word Seth had opened his home as an infirmary; to everyone: Barbarian and Roman alike. While the sack could be considered quite civil for the standard of the day, it was still a sack and the dead and dying numbered too many by any standard as far as Ambrose was concerned.

There were so many, too many, and while he had always accepted it as the way of their world, he now knew there was a better way. Ambrose considered himself a remarkably skilled healer, yet with limited supplies and so many charges he was able to do little or nothing for those in his care causing the burden to weigh upon him more so. They possessed neither enough food nor water for not only themselves, but those in their care; it was stressful and straining yet they all toiled on.

Seth and Orton seemed to be farther more at odds since their journey into the bowels of the city for supplies, which made his chest ache for them as they failed to take notice of what everyone else could see so clearly. He vaguely wondered if it had been this frustrating for Orton when Ambrose had fought him at every turn where Roman was concerned, which had been months, though Ambrose had never claimed patience.

While it was the least of their concerns as of present it did not stop, not only his long time brother's pain from weighing on him, but it his new brother's pains as well.

_Ambrose had meant it with every fiber of his being when he had told Roman he loved him and was with him to whatever end, yet that did not stop his anxieties for both their perils and the possibility he would no longer hold Roman's heart. His love had been more jumbled and flustered since he laid eyes upon the pretty yet marred Nobleman than he had ever previously seen, and while he wanted Roman to have everything, and thought he deserved everything; his heart had been in his throat: he was only human._

_Ambrose had done what he could for the man he loved as Roman continued to struggle and war with himself, almost beyond panicked, fighting what seemed his inner most demons, as they sprinted through the city towards whatever the fates had in store for them. It was not a new sight, yet it remained no less horrible as their footfalls caused what had already become rivers of blood to splash up and stain their clothes even more so._

_His heart, which had been in his throat, stopped completely when he thought they had been too late. The pretty bi-color haired Nobleman had blood cascading down his face as he stood, though outnumbered, defiantly with sword raised protecting what Ambrose could see immediately were slaves. His actions had confounded all of them as they had never known any sort of kindness when they themselves had worn shackles._

_Roman had been angrier than he had ever seen him. He had warned the other clan, and while Ambrose knew he had no intentions of hurting the man who was their sole purpose for being in the city, his words and his tone implied otherwise. Ambrose was farther shocked as the other man stated he would offer no resistance, yet pled the rest of what he called his household, which Ambrose knew meant his slaves, were left unharmed. Still, even with all that it was farther disconcerting to see his slaves not only speak out for him and shield him from possible harm, but state openly they would defy his will as though it was common occurrence._

_The scene that unfolded before him had made his eyes burn as he watched the man he loved crumble, before pulling himself together when the defiant Nobleman with impossible hard eyes for one born to such status finally broke down and began to sob. Ambrose didn't possess the full story, nor did he need it; Roman's relief and the fact he could see his love truly cared for the other man had been enough for him._

_Though he had already resigned himself to accept whatever this became, Roman's searing kiss after they thwarted another band of would be pillagers had caused him to settle whatever lingering doubts, though slight, he had been harboring. The uncharacteristic reaction Orton had to the man he now knew as Seth, caused him to love him just a little more for his own merits, especially when he saw he was a man after his own mind as far as it came to treatment._

_Despite the chaos around them and their immediate peril, his heart felt somehow lighter as he watched Orton watch Seth with cautious but warm fascination. Ambrose had to fight his chuckle when as soon as Seth's eyes were once again on him, Orton's contempt returned. He felt Roman's presence before he felt is touch, but simply kissed him before leaning back against him to watch the scene unfold before him._

_Ambrose suppressed another chuckle as his best friend and brother defended his honor without hesitation and a conviction he felt in his bones, but it caused his heart to flutter when Seth, who he already accepted, returned his own sentiments as far as how he felt about Ambrose._

_Once he realized Seth was determined to stay for whatever reason he knew Roman would not go, and while he stated he would not leave without him, he also found himself unwilling to leave without the pretty Nobleman. Ambrose had never been one to take to strangers, but he had taken to Seth and even more so when he ordered the doors unbarred and open to all who sought aid._

_They began to work tirelessly through the night and Ambrose found himself feeling slightly cautious around his new brother as while he clearly loved Roman therefore loved him in kind, not wanting to upset anything. Tired and weary he had been grateful for the help of Seth's defiant slaves, though still no less baffled as to how they became such._

_When he had awoken to a whimper after they had all fallen asleep together which cause slight alarm. His eyes snapped open as it almost sounded childlike. While Roman, who he was all but positive had most likely just fallen asleep, unwilling to miss a moment, seemed more at ease than he had ever seen him as he slumbered on, another whimper drew his attention to its source._

_Seth's beautiful face was scrunched in such a way that caused Ambrose's chest to tighten. He was wholly uncertain what to do, though he wanted to comfort him. Another pained whimper had him reacting without farther thought and he gently caressed the other man's cheek in hopes of soothing whatever had cause his discomfort._

_Seth's hand darted up and while Ambrose expected the other man's hand to smack his away, he was surprised when Seth's hand clamped down on his and pressed it into his flesh. While Ambrose tensed a bit, Seth, however, immediately relaxed at his touch causing a warmness to spread through his chest and his heart flutter as though it reaffirmed his acceptance._

_Ambrose ran the pad of his thumb across Seth soft unmarred cheek with a whispered reassurance, but at the sound of his voice the other man's eyes snapped open looking embarrassed. Ambrose felt his own cheeks flush, but offered a reassuring tentative smile to let Seth know it was okay, which seemed to placate him a bit. After a moment he motioned for Seth to rise with him and begin the day's work while they let Roman sleep for a little longer._

"You are impossibly infuriating," Orton snapped at Seth pulling Ambrose from his thoughts and causing him to quickly push off the wall.

"Keep it immobile and I will not have to be," Seth shot back with even more anger gesturing to Orton's injured shoulder. "It will become even more useless if you are not careful!"

"Yet, you refuse to care for your own wounds which could prove fatal!" Orton's anger was surprising as Ambrose had never seen him yell as such causing him to hurry forward, but Roman who looked as though he had just risen saved him from and uncomfortable confrontation.

Ambrose watched as Roman attempted to talk them both down as he held them each at arm's length effectively separating them, yet they completely ignored him and continued to glare at one another without breaking eye contact. A long uncomfortable moment went by before Seth turned and stormed away.

Roman's eyes snapped to his pleading for him to tend to Seth while he attempted to get Orton to rest, who had yet to do so. Ambrose nodded, though he was slightly nervous, with a reassuring smile and set off to find Seth.

"Let me see it," Ambrose said firmly when he found him kneeling in the yard digging in the herb garden gathering what was unfortunately all they had left.

"It is naught, but a scratch," Seth replied keeping his back turned for what Ambrose thought he could hear were tears in his voice.

"Roman is worried," Ambrose tried and after a moment the other man took a deep breath and stood to face him as he lifted his blouse.

Ambrose pretended not to notice his tear stained cheeks as he examined the wound, and while it was not too sever Orton was right, it could still prove fatal if not tended properly. Without a word, but a look as if to tell him he was without options Ambrose tugged Seth into the house to a room with more privacy feeling as though part of the other man's hesitation had to do with the scars that had "not healed so well".

As Ambrose worked in silence so as to give Seth time to rein himself in he was afforded his first glimpse of Seth's back. "Did not heal so well" did not cover it. The scars on his back which Ambrose could tell were from a whip looked as though they had not been tended at all. He was surprised the other man survived the ordeal, which made his eyes burn as he imagine how a Nobleman could come to possess such scars.

"Why is he so stubborn?" Seth asked suddenly. "His arm will not heal properly at all, but will be worse off none the less if he does not follow instruction."

"I do not know, for as long as I have known him I have never seen him behave in such a way," Ambrose told him honestly, before continuing to a matter which concerned him greatly. "Why have you not sought treatment yourself, and before you reply with, it is just a scratch, know I do not buy it for a moment. You have skill in healing and know just as well as I this could prove fatal."

"We have not the supplies," Seth answered quietly after a moment. "This mess is my doing and I will not waste what little we have on mine own self."

There is was again, this was my doing, and while Ambrose could not possibly fathom what it could mean he went a different route knowing all men blamed themselves for things which out of their control.

"Aye, you may feel it is so, but know while one binding seems precious to us now, it would be a sorer blow to lose a medicus such as you," Ambrose kept his voice casual, but still he felt Seth's eyes snap to his face. "Whatever your sin, it would be a greater sin to deprive our charges from the opportunity we are working so tirelessly to provide for something so simple."

"I opened the gate," Seth said quietly after a long moment.

Ambrose was unable to neither hide his shock nor keep his eyes from Seth's face. He felt a pang in his chest at seeing his tears had begun again. This man was so puzzling; so hard, yet so sensitive and soft and undeniably loving; much like his Roman.

"The city was in dire straights, all would have perished anyway, and with the rumor of 10,000 Huns on the march it would have been sacked regardless, whether by you or them…" His big brown doe eyes were pleading with him to understand. "I could not put Aer in more peril than I left him in for all these years… I… I did what it was I thought I must."

Seth's tears escaped as he finished his statement weakly causing Ambrose another pang.

"Of course you did," Ambrose said firmly letting his convictions ring clear in his voice. "We all must do difficult things in a world such as this, and I hold you not responsible one iota, though I do understand your pains."

Seth surprisingly looked slightly relieved at his words before Ambrose redirected his attentions to his work feeling glad he could help, though he knew his words would not erase what the other man was feeling as it was a heavy burden he learned so well with his charge of balance.

"I… I am glad he has you... you know?" Seth said after a moment.

Ambrose had heard him tell Orton much the same, but the words being spoken to him made it all the more reaffirming, and the fact his eyes shone with sincerity made it all the more potent.

"And I you," Ambrose met his eyes letting him see his own, which earned him a tentative smile before he tied off the binding. "I am also grateful for you for mine own personal reasons."

Speaking such a truth out loud as always left Ambrose's stomach fluttering, but as Seth opened his mouth to reply Roman's sudden appearance had him snapping it closed.

"I should offer apologies for my coarseness concerning your friend," Seth said quickly after a paused jumping from the table he was set on most likely seeking to hide his recent tears. "I meant no offense… he is... he is just impossible…"

Ambrose swore he saw Seth's cheeks redden under the scruff of his beard as Roman smiled at him fondly in a way that Ambrose knew they were of a same mind.

"Aye," Roman ruffled Seth's hair affectionately. "Yet, you say that as though you are not the same."

Seth scowled up at him though Ambrose could see he was suppressing a smile of his own as he narrowed his eyes causing Roman to chuckle before kissing his head and sending him on his way.

"He will be fine," Ambrose told him when Roman's worried eyes met his own.

"Do you think we were that infuriating where Orton was concerned," Roman said after a grateful nod before wrapping Ambrose tight in his arms causing him to chuckle though his heart began to race at the contact.

"More so," Ambrose chuckled again pressing his lips to Roman's before continuing. "We were too stubborn to even consider apologizing to one another."

"Did we never?" Roman said with mock confusion causing Ambrose to laugh again. "Well," Kiss, "I," kiss "am," kiss "eternally," kiss, "apologetic," three kisses, "my love."

Ambrose was wholly unconcerned with apologies and or past irritations as when Roman pulled him flush against his body a shiver ran up his spine and he felt his cock begin to harden. Though he felt himself blush at the sudden onslaught of desire he pushed it away and tilted his chin up to capture Roman's lips with his own. His immediate responsiveness and the surprised yet satisfied gasp he received only served to spur him on all the more.

Ambrose tangled his fingers in Roman's hair pulling him closer, relishing in the way his love's tongue gently caressed his own as he whimpered into his mouth. While this was hardly the time or place Ambrose became lost in everything that was Roman. Letting go of all his apprehensions, he rolled his hips pressing his throbbing cock against his lover's matching hardness seeking that delicious friction as an amazing heat spread throughout his body.

"I want to taste you," Ambrose's voice was a husky purr and that along with his words caused Roman's eyes to widen slightly, though blaze in such a way that made Ambrose all the more determined.

Ambrose smirked before he reclaimed his lover's lips in a searing kiss and pushing his back against the marble wall receiving a surprised and satisfying gasp. Ambrose slid his hands between their bodies untying Roman's trousers before fisting his cock and stroking him gently. Roman tensed slightly causing Ambrose's eyes to snap to his face slightly worried.

Roman's face was a beautiful mixture of pleasure and desire which made his stomach flutter, yet what he found in his eyes made his heart flutter. While there was an intense fire that let him know Roman wanted what he wanted just as much, there was slight hesitation which he knew was due to Roman's promise of patience.

Ambrose nodded with a reassuring smile gripping Roman's impressive length a little firmer before giving him a gentle loving kiss to let him know this was exactly what he wanted before he began to nip and suckle at the tender flesh of his neck and down his collar bone. Roman's hesitation disappeared completely when he yanked his tunic over his head after Ambrose gave it a small tug before reclaiming his mouth with a passion that left Ambrose breathless.

Pride shot through him at the beautiful sexy moans he was rewarded with as he worked his way down to his destination. His own cock throbbed as he licked and suckled the slightly salty yet deliciously sweet flesh of his gorgeous lover. Ambrose was already almost painfully hard, but the long drawn out husky deep rumbling moan that emanated from Roman when he finally took him into his mouth made his balls tighten.

Roman's fingers tangled in his hair and Ambrose felt the other man struggling not to push his head down or thrust his hips as he took as much of him into his mouth as he could manage at once while using one hand to word the rest while the other kept a tight grip on his lover's firm ass cheek. He dug his fingers into the supple, but firm flesh pulling the other man's hip towards him as he bobbed his head.

Ambrose glanced up meeting Roman's eyes as he watched the man he loved completely let go under his attentions. Roman's hair had come out of its band and was framing his beautiful face while the light blue of his irises were almost completely lost to his dilated pupils as he watched Ambrose suck his cock.

When Roman's breath quickened, and his words became indiscernible, Ambrose hollowed his cheeks sucking him in earnest. He pushed as much of his lover's hard member into his mouth as he could as he watched him climb higher and higher. Roman tugged on his hair to pull his mouth away letting him know he was going to cum, but Ambrose simply sucked harder.

Hot cum hit the back of his throat as Roman's knees buckled slightly with Ambrose's name tumbling breathlessly from his lips. He milked him of every last drop swallowing all that he could; relishing in the way the other man's muscles quaked under his palms. Ambrose released him with a loud pop as Roman tugged him to his feet before capturing his lips in a searing kiss before gently lapping up what Ambrose hadn't managed to swallow.

"I love you," Roman told him after a small gentle kiss that told him just that.

"I love you too."

While Ambrose was painfully hard, it had all been just as enjoyable for him as he could hear and feel it was for his beloved, so when Roman managed to catch his breath somewhat and began to eagerly slip his hands under his tunic Ambrose stopped him. Roman mistook his actions and suddenly looked concerned which Ambrose quickly kissed away.

"I love you," Ambrose told him sincerely and was glad Roman's concern seemed to diminish though he still looked slightly guilty so he kissed him again, "later, but not like that."

Roman's smile told him he knew exactly what he meant, and while Ambrose was nervous he harbored no doubts it was what he wanted.

"I love you," Roman kissed him gently and pulled back with that unfathomable love shining in his eyes that mirrored his own.

"Mind, body, and soul; I belong to you." Ambrose replied softly. "I give myself to you, I am yours forever... to whatever end... never."


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Randy's POV, we switch back to Roman's next chapter, which should hopefully be done soon! Thanks for reading!

Orton found himself alone on one of the many terraces of the fine house in which was converted into an infirmary as an orange haze lightened the night sky with the black acrid smoke obscuring the stars all the more while the city continued to burn around them. He was beyond exhausted, yet knew he would not find sleep, though both Roman and Ambrose implored him to rest hours ago. Then again not long ago, but Orton's mind would not settle enough to allow him to drift.

_Orton had felt he finally found some semblance of peace before they were called to march on Rome. It had been an infuriating couple of months to say the least with both Ambrose and Roman denying their blessing and fighting it at every turn. Orton had thanked the gods as he watched their walls crumble, though it did leave him feeling very much alone._

_He was happy for them; he truly was. Ambrose had saved his life and he wanted nothing more for him than happiness. He was beyond grateful that he found that in Roman. Orton was also beyond grateful he had found a true brother in Roman as well, something that went beyond fondness, though plutonic, along with the rest of their family. Plutonic was all he would allow himself having made a promise never travel down the other road again._

_Roman had mentioned leaving, seeking true freedom he had named it; all of them together. Orton had been skeptical and told Roman so. Not of the concept per say, but that even Roman possessed the ability to sway Ambrose to abandon his vengeance. Then the impossible occurred. The moment he saw Ambrose make his decision, as he clung to Roman weeping, his own eyes burned, grateful the gods, who had forsaken him his whole life had finally answered one of his prayers._

_Battle and bloodshed bothered Orton little. He had seen much of it in the years since Ambrose saw him freed from the brothel, but the love his two brothers shared was something he had yet to see or even fathom. The love Roman held for Orton himself was something he yet thought he would only ever be blessed with from Ambrose. The other's as well, all of his brothers, his blessings wholly unlooked for, yet no less cherished._

_Orton had been certain they would be on their way to true freedom as of now, especially with the way he felt Ambrose slightly quake when he wrapped him in his arms as he bid him good night the eve before they were all catapulted back into their own personal hells. It was heartbreaking to see Roman as he was the next day, and Orton was confused and hurt, but had no idea as to what to do or say, which was a rarity. He had always possessed skill in comforting others, though his own demons often plagued him._

_The moment Roman mentioned his companion Orton felt his heart sink and his stomach turn. Not only for the realization they would not be leaving, but for the memories of his own companion who had been the reason he had met Ambrose in the first place, and the possibility Roman's companion had been to Roman, what Orton's had been to him. He was determined to protect his quirky new family from the disease that was Rome and everything in it._

_Orton hadn't been all that much younger than Ambrose, when he was taken, or rather given as it were, to settle his father's debt. Orton had gone willingly, though it was not like he actually possessed a choice, still he felt it was better he rather than one of his siblings._

_In the beginning it had not been all that horrible. Orton had attended lessons with his companion, given an education he would never have been afforded as the son of a poor carpenter, and while he had farther duties, he had become very fond of his companion. Orton had seen his companion as one would a friend or a confidant, then eventually much more._

_Orton was little more than what one would call a man, and though he had not seen it coming he very much should have. When his companion's brother had come to collect their debt Orton remembered his stomach being in his throat as he chose "the handsome one". The first instance his companion's brother had come to him, whom he had rarely seen since they had collected him, he had begun to refuse, but was quickly reminded of the way of their world._

_It had gone on like that for some time, and while Orton was sure his companion had known, though he never spoke about it to anyone, when their relationship progressed Orton's companion already held heart, yet he had assumed it was just the way of their world. Eventually it had all fallen apart, though Orton was never given a choice in any matter, when he was 17 he was sold, and his heart broke; never again had been his promise._

_Orton had been worried Seth might hold a similar sway over Roman. Though, their physical shackles had been broken there were always invisible shackles tethering them to their past; effecting who they became, preventing Roman's "true freedom"._

_Still, Orton had vowed to stand by his brother's whatever befell them, so that was what he had done, and was very much relieved when his anxieties seemed to prove false, though he had been very weary of Roman's pretty companion as soon as he set eyes on him. Seth seemed nothing like any Roman he'd ever met; with his defiant slaves, and his willingness to protect them. It all sat unwell with Orton, but nothing like when he felt his gentle touch._

_Orton's skin had burned, but the same time he broke out in chills. It has caused him to jerk away in embarrassment, not only for his marks that ever reminded him of what he had been and still ached every so often with no cause, but for his own inexplicable urge to lean into it. Seth's words for his own scars had sent a pang like he had never felt through his chest, but you could not trust a Roman, even one that claimed love._

_The sincerity in Seth's eyes when he claimed he held love for Ambrose solely due to Roman's love had puzzled him. He knew the other man meant it, yet still, it made no sense to him. Orton had decided he was better off keeping away from Seth, because he swore to himself he would never repeat his past mistakes. Yet, Orton felt the lines blurring more and more as the others sought to force them together._

_Not only had the beautiful Nobleman shown skill in healing that impressed even Ambrose, but he showed genuine concern for others, including Orton, though the last had gotten on his nerves. The man had opened his home to all and what Orton knew were his slaves were never treated as such, it was all almost too much, and accompanied with what his mere presence did to Orton's pulse, he had to continuously remind himself of his own companion and his broken heart, which he had long tried to forget._

_His resolve had begun its crumbling when Ambrose had bid them to go into the city for more supplies. They were woefully short, and too many who might have been saved had died, so while Orton knew it was necessary he still managed to glare at Ambrose as they set to task. It wasn't any one thing he could pin point with certainty that put him on edge when it came to the pretty Nobleman, yet Orton had been continuously seeking signs Seth was false. Not finding any made it all the more unsettling._

_As they walked through the ruined city which had been the heart of the ancient world Orton's own heart broke many times over. They helped with what they could though it wasn't much, and directed many to Seth's home or the Basilica they had learned had become a safe haven as well, still every time they made progress in finding what they required there proved someone in immediate need._

_Orton's heart was heavy and his wound ached, but even more so when he saw it all weighed on the man he'd sworn to avoid just as much of not more, his resolve crumbled to next to nothing. As they walked over the sticky blood caked cobble stone with Seth's beautiful brown eyes glistening Orton could not help walking close enough so that their arms brushed one anothers with every step seeking to offer some sort of comfort. It seemed a bit silly, but it also seemed to help, and he felt relieved when Seth managed a weak watery smile though it seemed to be more to reassure Orton himself.  
_

_They had next to nothing as they were on their way back when a cry sent Seth to sprinting. Orton followed as best he could, but he was weak from wound and fatigue. When he finally managed to catch up he found Seth stood once again standing defiant with sword raised before a band that sought to pillage and a crumpled heap. Orton noticed it was a woman who had seen more than her fair share of seasons which caused Orton's heart to sink, but even more so at the sight of the blood that soaked the front of Seth's tunic._

_Orton though breathless and in pain dug deep for whatever strength he yet possessed and set himself between both groups with an icy glare. It was an intense stand off and when Seth moved forward to protest Orton shoved him back without hesitation. Eventually the band saw that there were easier and much more lucrative ventures and with hateful glares and a hand signal from their leader stepped off._

_Orton had been beside himself with worry for Seth, but they silently agreed to tend to the woman first. She was battered and bruised, Orton was unsure she would make it much longer. Seth offered her kind words, but she seemed to feel the same as Orton concerning her fate and requested to be brought to the Basilica. Seth complied and though Orton could tell he was in physical pain as well emotional he carried the woman carefully as may be across the gods-forsaken city to the place she had chosen to die. Orton offered his help but Seth only shook his head and trudged on as though this was his burden to bear alone.  
_

_Seth carefully laid the now unconscious old woman on one of the free tables before kissing her brow and leaving her to the priest that had come to tend to her after handing him a small pouch of coins. Every last wall around Orton's heart crumbled as once they were in the streets again Seth's tears began to fall in earnest. Without even conscious thought Orton carefully wrapped the pretty Nobleman in his arms pulling him against his chest._

_It was the most heartbreaking and amazing feeling all at once. The tears soaking into his tunic broke his heart as well as the other man's pain, past and present, but the way he clung to him made his heart soar. All his doubts and misgivings were quickly swept aside as he kissed Seth's head and murmured encouragement; nothing else mattered in that moment but the man in his arms._

_Eventually Seth gently pulled back with embarrassment shinning in his eyes causing Orton a painful pang as he brushed away stray tears and offered a reassuring smile. He felt what he knew the others saw full force as he gazed down at the beautiful enigma that had taken up residence in his heart from first glance, and it took his breathe away. Orton had the sudden urge to shelter him, and protect him from the wicked ways of their world; it was almost overwhelming._

_"We must be getting back," Seth said quietly. "Your arm needs tending again."_

_"As do you," Orton reluctantly loosened his hold so as to check on the wound they had so far neglected._

_"It is naught but a scratch," Seth snapped suddenly stepping away as Orton reached for his tunic, though attempted to rein himself in. "I am fine, we must get back with what little we have and we shall see to your arm."_

_The sudden anxiety and anger in the other man's voice left him feeling as though he had been slapped after such a tender moment. Orton quickly shook it off though his own blood boiled and stepped forward reaching out again._

_"Please," Seth's voice was now laced solely with anxiety as he took another step back. "Please, don't, we must get back."_

_Orton froze for a moment at the fear in the other man's eyes wanting nothing more to take away his hurts and show him his anxieties were unnecessary, that he was safe with him, but his own unsettling feelings and apprehension kept him from moving. He simply nodded and his chest tightened at the relieved sigh that escaped the other man._

_Maybe Seth did not feel what Orton had felt, or maybe he thought him below his station, or maybe he was as scared as Orton was himself. These thoughts consumed him as they trudged back to the mansion this man called home, and Orton latched on to the negativity and channeled his hurt in to anger, because anger was easier. Anger was safer._

_Orton's anger had gotten the best of him when Seth had tried to tug him through his overcrowded home and tend to his arm with sincere concern shinning in his eyes. It was stupid and he knew it but he had shouted at him and Seth shouted back, before storming away with tears once again in his eyes. Roman had bid him to sleep but Orton had walked away from him too. While this would have been enough on its own to have him reeling when Seth had sought him out to apologize to him… his heart had never felt so heavy and light all at once._

_Orton accepted the apology, though rather stiffly, and offered his own, though rather weakly, before turning away from the man who had occupied most of his thoughts as of late. It had hurt so unbelievably much to go, but he didn't know what else he could do, or should do, so he walked away._

His blessings numbered many even in this moment of doubt. He was positive he had been sent a curse, a very pretty curse, but a curse none the less. Orton was beginning to sympathize with Ambrose a bit more. Seth made him feel things he had thought long lost, and while he noticed the way in which the others smiled at him now, he also knew it had to be a curse. Orton sadly resigned himself, though it was painful, to avoid his pretty curse and attempt to get some rest as he was no good to anyone dead on his feet.

As he entered the dark room he had claimed for his own due to it's distance from everything else, so as to keep his pains private, a quiet whimper made his chest constrict. Another one had his feet carrying him towards it without conscious thought. Orton had no idea how he knew, but he knew it was his pretty curse and his resolve shattered. Even in near darkness the pain etched into Seth's features as he slept shattered his heart almost as much as the trails left behind by his tears.

The overwhelming urge to protect the defiant yet somehow delicate Nobleman over rode everything else. Carefully he reached out and brushed the blonde strands of hair away from the other man's eyes as he took a knee next to him whispering gentle reassurances. Seth's hand shot up and clamped down on his startling him a bit as his eyes snapped open.

Seth's features morphed into unfathomable relief as he pressed Orton's hand into his flesh as though he would never let go before pushing his palm to his lips causing a pleasant, yet unsettling shiver to shoot up his spine. Seth gripped his hand in a way as to make him think he was testing its reality.

Relief morphed into pleading and Orton knew Seth was asking him to stay. It was as though his body reacted before his brain. As he climbed carefully onto the bed, and the other man immediately burrowed into his arms almost desperately clinging to him, though still careful of his injured arm. Orton was suddenly aware this was it for him, and no amount of warring with himself or reasoning would change that as he pressed his lips to Seth's head to offer comfort grateful his tears no longer fell.

Orton smiled, despite his palpable terror, as he tightened his arms around his pretty curse protectively, who snuggled deeper and tightened his own grip before quickly dropping off into a peaceful sleep nestled in his arms. The exhaustion he had been fighting caught up with him all at once as Orton soon followed with a warmness and peacefulness that he had never dared fathomed, yet would never give up for anything.


End file.
